Shadow of the Moon
by SnowyAmaterasu
Summary: She was callow upon certain subjects, erudite on others, mild and utterly indisposed in the art of backtalk. He was irascible, inimical, zealous, and swore like it was a first language. They were, without doubt, incompatible yet oddly good for each other.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **

This is my first fanfic and is an ongoing birthday gift for my best friend Silver. I'll try my best to keep them in character. I don't own Naruto, any mythology that I use, or any music. There are OC's in this.

Reviews would be appreciated. Thank you. Hope you enjoy.

**Pairing**: I'm contemplating Deidara and my OC, Rukia, or her and Hidan. I haven't decided just yet.

**Warning**: Rated M for Violence, Religion, Blood, Profanity, and Mature Content later on.

**Shadow of the Moon**

**Prologue **

Katsuo sat in the kitchen, listening to his father rattle on, as always. He looked down at the remnants of what was, at a point, his lunch. A small evenly distributed orange pool of liquid still remained in the porcelain bowl that had once been tomato soup, accompanied by a few scraps of butter toasted crust of bread from a cheese sandwich.

A sudden sharpness in his father's toned voice caught his attention and he looked up into harsh blue eyes, watching him as he spoke. Not listening or even trying to comprehend words out of the noise that left his lips, but looking at him nonetheless.

He didn't need to listen. He knew what his father was likely rambling on about, training. That's all it ever was. Either this wasn't satisfactory or this needed more attention. That was all it ever was.

A sudden scowl twitched at his lips and a twinge of resentment pricked at his conscious, worming its way to the pit of his stomach as he looked on acrimoniously.

He was only three when his father had started teaching him about chakra and basic fighting skills, now he was ten and at a minimum, a jounin level ninja.

How long had he felt this overwhelming abhorrence for the man he called father? It was a question he could not answer. But a harder one was; when had it started? If he had to guess it would be around five, when being a ninja was no longer "an honor", as his father put it, but a necessity to make said man look good.

His father, Renzo, used to be a great role model for the academy students and village alike here in the Moon Country. He was the clan leader after all. That was until he developed a serious gambling addiction accompanied by the alcoholic habit he began to acquire shortly after.

That was when "It's an honor to be a shinobi" had turned into "You can redeem the good name I had built for our family." And he did, if nothing else, just that.

People always gave respect and special treatment to the powerful, and graduating the academy in only two years at the age of nine, when most had either just entered or were just learning the basics was if anything power. Or maybe it was just talent. Either way he had "redeemed" his family's name, but even that wasn't adequate enough for his father.

It seemed to him he would never be fast enough or strong enough in his eyes because he wasn't seeing what he wanted his son to be, but what he wanted himself to be if given the chance to do things over again. He lived through Katsuo and there was no room for mistakes or clumsiness on his part.

Everything needed to be perfect. Not nearly so, but perfect, and he loathed him for it. He hated being used and more so being pushed to the breaking point like some kind of animal.

After all it wasn't his fault his father had severely ruined his reputation. Why should he help him regain even a smidgen of honor? Because it would make him look twice as superior, which would result in the eventual eating away at his father and he just may need that leverage one day.

He could almost smile almost laugh even at the thought of his own success driving his father crazy. It was inevitable that the villagers would completely disregard Renzo eventually. He was washed up, finished, and who better to take his place and show him up but his own son. If Renzo wasn't so blind he might see that he was digging his own grave, for Katsuo's success would only add insult to injury.

The thought alone sent a warm blanket of comfort to settle over him. He would be better than his father ever was and he refused to ruin it all with such trivial things as drinking and gambling.

It was sinful behavior, not that his father would know. He had no religion at all and the only reason he himself did was because of his mother. What would people say about Renzo now that his son had faith in god and he himself shunned him? Especially since the village itself was based on religions, different as they were.

"Katsuo! Pay attention when I speak to you, and wipe that look off your face." Renzo's angered voice penetrated his thoughts, and it was only in that moment that he had come out of his daze, he noticed his own clenched fists and his father's irritated frown.

Katsuo unclenched his hands, stretching out the fingers for the blood to circulate once more and rid them of the horrible pale white color they had taken as he cleared his face of any and all expressions. He had become good at that over the years. After all shinobi do not show emotion.

"Forgive me father, I was just thinking." It came out a bit more hissed than he wanted.

"Think when I'm not talking to you." The sound of his voice proved his father was irritated with the lack of interest he had shown in the conversation, as if his expression wasn't enough to give it away.

Katsuo frowned out of annoyance but forced himself to show respect to his father. "Sorry sir".

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways you have a mission tomorrow. Meet your team at the village gate at 7:30." He said sternly and gave a sort of smirk that begged to be defied and it disappeared just as fast as it had come.

"I'll be there." Katsuo sighed and stood up from the table, clearing his dishes and his father's at the same time. He couldn't help but notice the joyous grin plastered on his father's face that had taken the place of his angered frown. It never ceased to amaze him how just the thought of going on a mission could make his father so delighted even if angry moments earlier.

He shook his head slightly. At least someone was happy.

Katsuo placed the soiled dishes in the sink and ran water over them, clearing away a small portion of the grime to make it easier for his mother to clean.

Being nine months into pregnancy, he tried to help her as much as he could. It was more than his father did at least. He really didn't even know why they married in the first place. He knew it wasn't because she had become pregnant for him; they were married for two years before that happened.

Maybe they had loved each other at one point, but you'd never know it now. He couldn't recall them showing any real sign of love for one another. Maybe they just didn't like public shows of affection even if said public was none other and only their very son. Or maybe it was over money seeing as how they had much of it.

"That's good honey, I'll get it." Yuzuki's soft feminine voice reached his ears, turning off the water he turned to gaze at his mother. Her black hair fell long around her shoulders framing her incredible young girlish face. Her soft chestnut eyes were filled deeply with joy and love as her hands rested on her swollen belly.

"Alright, I was just trying to help you out." His anger towards his father dissipated only to be replaced with happiness as he gazed at his mother's beaming smile and loving eyes. There was just something about his mother; you couldn't feel anything but comfortable in her presence. Her voice always soft and soothing, so full of emotion.

"I can see and I appreciate it. Thank you very much." Yuzuki moved forward as she spoke pulling her son into a sideways hug to keep him from pressing uncomfortably into her belly and kissed his forehead.

Katsuo smiled at the loving contact of his mother's lips upon his forehead and warm embrace. His arm wrapped around her back to hug her as well. These were rare moments since he was normally busy training or gone most of the time on a mission, and they always seemed to end too quickly. "Your welcome."

Katsuo broke away from his mother and sat back at the table, seeing that his father had already left the room, and wondered exactly when he did so. Most likely before his mother had arrived. How was it that two people could live in the same house yet hardly see one another? It was like his father was avoiding her as if she were the plague or something. Well he never seemed to be excited about her pregnancy. That was probably what it was.

But why wasn't his father excited? He himself was. He had been the only child for ten years now and frankly he was sick of all the attention directed at him for being so. Was there anything wrong with a little peace once in a while?

He was genuinely happy that he would soon have a sibling. All his friends had siblings to play with. No matter how many times they told him siblings were a pain and he was lucky not to have any he could see in their eyes they never meant it. He had seen it one day, a bond he had never know, when his teammate's younger brother showed up all too early in the morning at the village gates before a mission just to wish him well. He could make out a kind of love that was completely different from that of a parent's or a spouse's when his little brother hugged him good-bye and gave him a picture he drew of the two of them together. No parents, just them. He could picture his teammate's bright smile as he held it tightly in his hands as they walked toward their destination. How carefully he folded it along the sloppy crease already made down the middle. How gently he slid it into his pocket, not allowing it to tear.

He wanted that, or something of the sort. A different kind of love and closeness he could have and show for someone else. To be looked up to and respected instead of being trounced all over.

The sound of rushing water filled the room and the squirting of a bottle as his mother added the dish soap and began scrubbing the dishes.

He sat there just watching her, just happy to be in her presence. It would be a while before he saw her again. He knew the mission was liable to be an escort mission, probably a B-rank, and they tended to take a few days sometimes a week.

He gave an irritated sigh and shook his head a bit. He wasn't looking forward to this.

"Is something wrong sweetheart?" Yuzuki asked, turning the knobs of the sink to stop the water's flow.

"I have a mission tomorrow. I guess I'm just not looking forward to going."

Yuzuki picked up a dish towel and began rubbing her hands dry. "Well we all have to do things we don't want to sometimes. I'm sure it'll be over before you know it". She smiles sweetly as Katsuo twisted in the kitchen chair turning to face her.

"I guess so." After a few moments of silence his mother went to the refrigerator and pulled out different vegetables and a package of wrapped meat. "What are you making?"

"I thought we would have stew tonight. How does that sound?" Yuzuki unwrapped the white packaging and placed the raw meat on a wood cutting board.

"Sounds good."

Katsuo watched his mother's hands use the sharp chef's knife to cut the meat. Her hands rose and fell; the knife glinted with the sun light coming in through the kitchen window. Rich red stained the blade, as the blood from the meat ran along its edge and dripped on to the cutting board, poling and running over the edge to the counter top.

"Can I help?"

Yuzuki smiled her hands never ceasing movement. "You can wash the vegetables for me."

Katsuo hopped down from his chair, making his way to stand beside his mother. He slowly began unwrapping the various vegetables that littered the countertop and running them thoroughly under cool water.

Yuzuki pulled a pot out of an overhead cupboard and slowly added the slices of meat and a variety of different spices. She took the washed vegetables and began dicing them and adding them to the concoction of spiced meat.

Yuzuki placed the pot on a light burner set on low. "Alright dinner will be ready in a few hours."

"Ok. I have to get ready for tomorrow anyways."

Yuzuki began wiping the counter clean bidding Katsuo a "thank you for your help" as he left the kitchen heading towards his bedroom.

The house was too big for a family of three. Katsuo thought it was unnecessarily big for any family really. It was more of a palace than anything, ornate in nature with elaborate decorations. Even with all his father's gambling and drinking there was hardly a noticeable dip in their financial status. His father, just like his uncles and aunts that lived near-by, were very rich. Each had immense spacious houses with lavish furniture and decorations and theirs were no different. There fortune had been passed down through the generations and each had only added to it. But even their house or finances didn't compare to his Aunt Hiroko, or so he had been told.

According to his uncle his Aunt Hiroko had much greater fortune than the rest of the family. She was a free spirit, always traveling around just to see what all the different countries looked like.

She sent his mother, her sister, letters often and little trinkets on occasion. Sometimes she would even put in a little something for him.

Katsuo walked up the great staircase in the front of the house and down the hall till he reached his room. He pushed open the heavy door and walked in. His room was rather plain to say the least. Just white walls and a light blue bedspread, with curtains to match it. He had a varnished wood desk in the corner, a dresser across from one of his windows, and a nightstand by the bed. Other than that, not much was in the room except his clothes, weapons, and a few possessions.

It was always clean due to the various maids in the house. It was strange to him that his mother insisted on cooking meals and cleaning things on her own when they had maids to do that sort of thing. It probably kept her from being bored out of her mind. She couldn't do the things she normally did being pregnant and all. She probably just needed something, anything, to do to occupy herself.

Katsuo opened his closet and pulled out a backpack, putting anything he may need inside. When he finished he put the bag down on top his desk and flopped down on his bed, stretching out and relaxing.

His eyes closed leisurely, pleased with the peacefulness. He listened to the chirping of the birds outside and the occasional breeze that blew past the open window and ruffled his curtains along with the color changing leaves on the tree just outside. The air was crisp and cool with the distinct scent of autumn. Even the sun snaking through the window and falling upon his form could not warm him.

He laid there for what seemed like hours. It must have been hours, since one of the maids came to get him for dinner. He was awake the whole time just oblivious to time.

Katsuo returned to the kitchen and sat across from his father, next to his mother. Up until now his father and mother had been discussing something but now an uncomfortable almost awkward silence was all that could be heard. No one spoke. Whatever they had been talking about obviously wasn't for him to hear and he sat there quietly, picking up his spoon and dipping it into the soup in front of him.

Dinner that night was strange to him. Normally his parents would have some kind of conversation during dinner but tonight it was relatively quiet. There were a few things said on both their parts and some on his but mainly quiet. That was all he could think as he laid in his bed once more yawning and slowly falling asleep.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Katsuo woke up earlier than he needed to. He didn't need to meet up with his team for at least an hour and a half. He thought about going back to sleep but he just wasn't tired enough to do so.

Katsuo pushed the comforter off his body, picking up some clothes; he went to the bathroom across the hall, pulling a towel out of the closet next to the door. The bathroom was painted a variety of light blues and whites with classy paintings and decorations on the wall.

Pushing the door closed behind him he set the bundle of fabric on the marble counter beside the sink and turned on the shower, getting the water the perfect temperature before removing his clothes and standing under the spray. He ran his hands through his short black hair soaping it up and rinsing it. He spent a good twenty minutes standing under the warm droplets breathing in an array of expensive soaps and steam.

He was dressed in minutes and still had more than an hour to kill. He walked down to the kitchen, backpack in hand, and put together a bowl of cereal before sitting at the table. He ate slowly, using up more time than he needed to. The silence throughout the house was something he was used to but his father would be up soon enough, and that silence would be broken. He didn't care for the way his farther thought he needed to get up and see him off. He didn't need his father to wake him up for missions, but still he got up every morning to make sure he was on his way. As if he wasn't going to go.

Katsuo shook his head and stood from the table. He wasn't going to stick around to see him today. Katsuo picked up his bowl and poured the remainder of his breakfast down the sink before pulling his shoes on and walking out the door. He still had at least an hour as he stepped out into the cool morning air. It was about the second week of October, the 14 he thought.

He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and slipped his hands into his pockets to keep them warm as he began his decent through the village. His feet crunched over the dry dead leaves as he went, mixing a leaf scent with that of the moist morning air. Dew collected on his pant legs and the grass stained the fabric around his ankles green. The village was still slightly dark, the sun not completely up yet, and all was quiet. Dropping his gaze to the ground he watched the multicolor leaves as he passed by them clearing his mind and concentrating on the silence.

It was short lived however as a sudden clanging caught his attention, snapping his gaze towards the source.

Mariko, a well known fortune teller and herbalist, and some say sorceress, stood outside her little shop. She sold tarot cards, herbal remedies, plants, and a variety of things for magic and fortunetelling that he didn't know anything about along with her services.

She was moving boxes in and out of the little shop, most likely new shipments of goods that she needed.

She was a very young woman, in her twenties maybe, with curled flowing honey hair and sea eyes set in her youthful carefree features. Her cheeks were tinted with a pink rouge to give the effect of blushing. Her lips were colored just a tad darker in red while her eyes were framed by dark lines of either brown or black eye shadow. She wore a white flowing dress tinted pink at the bottom with long sleeves that complimented her slender figure. She always wore a dress, at least every time he had seen her, which wasn't often but still he assumed she wore one all the time. And he had spoken to her less than that, but she was always polite and giddy.

Mariko suddenly looked upwards meeting his chestnut eyes and smiling as she always had, but he couldn't help but notice the touch of sadness it held. "Katsuo have you come to help me move these boxes?" Her voice was giddy and joking as she smiled on brighter than before.

"Actually I have a mission today." He replied arching an eyebrow and tilting his head slightly confused. It seemed like she was trying her hardest to hide her unhappiness that was clearly there.

Mariko giggles slightly. "Oh I know, after all it is my job is it not?"

Katsuo gave an amused smirk. "I guess, but seeing as how you are the best fortuneteller around I really shouldn't be surprised."

Mariko set down the box she was carrying, giggling before picking up a new one. "You flatter me Katsuo. Although I do like to know my work is appreciated."

"I've never heard a bad word in your behalf nor heard anyone say they were unsatisfied with a reading."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Well I should be on my way, wouldn't want to be late."

Mariko's despondent features returned more obvious than before, but this time she did nothing to conceal it. "Yes, we wouldn't want that. Be careful Katsuo. I wish to see you remain in this village for a long time yet."

A look of perplexed suspicion took residence over his features. What did she mean by that? Was she implying that he may die? "I'll be as careful as I can."

Mariko walked back into the quaint little shop and set down the box she was holding on the pile that had formed. She leaned against it for a moment to rest as the faint sound of footsteps from outside passed by the door, and she knew he was gone.

A stream of first morning sunlight seeped through the doorway and shone over her honey hair giving it a highlighted luster. She walked back to the doorway and looked out, ruby lips curving downward doleful in nature. "Forgive me." she whispered quietly as Katsuo's form retreated out of sight. "Please don't listen, she'll need you." A single tear fell from her sea colored eyes. He couldn't hear her. He didn't know what she planned or said and even if he did never would he imagine what was to befall him and his family. Guilt swarmed her thoughts and stung at her gut as the lump formed in her throat. Sadly some of it would be her fault. If only she had more time she could find someone else, but no one would be as good.

Silently she made her way over to an old oaken trunk in the corner of the room that was filled with an assortment of herbs, spices, animal parts, jarred collections of insects, packaged powders, bird feathers, and numerous other odds and ends. Shifting through the contents she found what she was looking for. A small white glass vase with blue patterned designs etched into the outside.

Mariko swallowed hard. "Tonight it is then."

A small amused laugh escaped her lips as her hand came up, the tinted fabric of her dress whipping under her eyes leaving bits of black from her mascara and eye shadow. "How unlike myself am I?" She chuckled lightly once more at her obvious out of character behavior. She was the joyful carefree kind of girl not what she was suddenly turned into. Not this guilt ridden sobbing mess.

With a shake of her curled locks she stood and placed the old urn on the table. Tonight would be full of activity.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Katsuo stood with his teammates, sensei, and a man from a village he had never heard of before at the front gates. Like he had suspected it was an escort mission.

The man's name was Eiji. He was a tall man with an average body build, likely in his early thirties. He had dark brown hair and deep blue eyes with very masculine facial features and high cheekbones. He reminded him slightly of his father. Only his father had lighter eyes and darker hair.

His sensei was slightly smaller but far more muscular with just as much masculinity in his facial features. Daisuki sensei had longer white hair tied back in a low ponytail, despite being 27, with hazel eyes and a goofy smile upon his lips. He was never a very serious man outside of battle. He was an easygoing guy that seemed to get the most out of life.

His teammates Ayame and Isamu were pretty much the same. Always messing around. They would rather go out and have fun rather then train or hone their skills and honestly their team suffered for it. They weren't actually considered the weakest team in the village but they weren't the strongest either. Somewhere in the middle perhaps. That's another thing that begun to bug him though. He always ended up having to help one of his teammates even when he was busy enough with an enemy of his own.

As they started walked the dirt path towards the village his inquisitive teammates began to ask Eiji questions whilst he remained quiet and listened. With the talkative group members he wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise anyways.

Apparently Eiji ran a ryokan in the Hot Springs Village and had gotten himself into a few bad deals resulting in a man hiring some ninja to execute him. He had no family or wife and the village he lived in prospered due to their abundant and beautiful hot springs, but there was still war and conflict they hoped to rid themselves of someday.

Katsuo arched an eyebrow. They wanted peace? True peace did seem like a nice thing, but this village wanted to rid themselves of all missions and focus on finances and business entirely. Even if they were to get peace their shinobi would likely grow restless. Soldiers know nothing but war and battles after all, and peace only confuses them. How can they expect them to abide by peace when they have been trained since children to protect their village and kill other shinobi without guilt? It's hard to spend years doing and building up skills in a specific field and then have it taken away to learn something else entirely new, and he imagined it was frustrating as well. Being a shinobi and running a hot spring or a restaurant were entirely different things altogether, so exactly what did they expect their shinobi to do? They did go into being shinobi for a reason. They chose that career path over all others. That's what they wanted to do with their lives. The village could have peace but by all means take missions still, that way people wouldn't have to completely change their lives and wouldn't grow angry with the village.

"You're village sounds so beautiful. I can't wait to see it." Ayame, his bubbly red haired teammate stated with eagerness.

Isamu seemed just as excited about the village. It defiantly sounded like a step up from the last one they had gone to. The swamp country wasn't pleasant in the least. Nothing but sticky mud, murky slime water, and a horrible pungent smell throughout the entire country. Truthfully he couldn't understand why anyone would live there.

"Oh, it is very beautiful. Just wait till you see my inn. It's normally rather expensive and for good reason, but I'd be honored to give you all a free stay. You are saving my life after all."

Daisuki sensei smiled brightly at the invitation. "Thank you Eiji. That's very generous of you."

"Oh, it's not a problem."

"So Eiji-sama are there powerful ninja in your village?" Isamu walked faster to keep a steady pace next to the Eiji.

"Some are, yes. But as I said we are working toward ridding ourselves of war and shinobi altogether."

"But what will all the shinobi do then?" Ayame ran a hand through her cherry hair as she looked up at him in anticipation of the answer.

Eiji rubbed a hand against his chin in thought. "Well whatever they want to I suppose."

"Oh." Ayame seemed slightly disheartened by his answer but continued her questioning as time went on. "Do shinobi from other villages stay at your inn?"

"All the time."

Daisuki sensei hummed as he smiled at the man. "So I take it that business is good."

Eiji laughed joyously before answering. "Yes business is very good. Once we reach the village you'll see why."

Hours of talking went by and Katsuo slipped in a few questions of his own every now and then. It was starting to get dark and as the village slipped into view and the closer they got the more he could see why so many people came here.

It was like many other villages in layout. Stores and inns lined the cobblestone streets as well as their famous hot springs. Houses were set in groups throughout the village. They had training grounds and a ninja academy near the largest cluster of houses and a park in the center of the village. All the houses were designed in a similar old fashioned kind of style which gave the village kind of a welcome comfortable feeling. Surrounding the place were fields of various kinds of flowers, herbs, and trees along with a view of a large mountain if you look to the South. All in all it was in fact a beautiful village.

Katsuo and his team made it to Eiji's inn and were given a small tour. The ryokan reminded him of his house in a way; it was full of elaborate decorations but not nearly as big.

Eiji gave them two rooms and told them what time the innkeepers would serve meals before he went to his own home for the night. Daisuki sensei had one of the rooms all his own while Katsuo and his two teammates shared the other. By the time they all got settled it was completely dark out and everyone was tiered from the long journey. Daisuki sensei was already asleep across the hall and Ayame was sleeping soundly on the bed closest to the door.

Katsuo climbed into the bed next to the window and began to drift off until Isamu came back from the bathroom not bothering to be quiet and jumped onto the bed next to him, making him bounce slightly. Katsuo groaned irritably. "Could you be any louder?"

Isamu smiled a huge cocky grin down at him. "Yep."

Katsuo groaned once more and pulled the pillow from under his head and smacked Isamu with it before returning it to its proper place. "Go to sleep already."

Isamu just laughed as he smacked him with his own pillow, returning the favor. His hazel eyes gleamed with mischief and energy. "Why so quiet today, huh? You barely said anything on the way here."

Katsuo t'ched. "Like I could have gotten a word in even if I wanted to with your big mouth." Katsuo rolled onto his back and draped his right arm over his closed eyes as if shielding them from a nonexistent light.

Katsuo heard him laugh slightly as another blow from Isamu's pillow hit him in the face. "Oh yeah, what about Ayame?" Katsuo peaked out from under his arm just in time to see Isamu gesture toward their sleeping partner. "She has a bigger mouth than I do."

Katsuo smirked and yanked the pillow out of Isamu's hand before it made contact with his upper body once more. "Yeah yeah she's a big mouth, but she's not awake to make fun of now is she?"

Isamu chuckled reaching and ripping his pillow out of the black haired boy's hands. "So that's your game huh? Only make fun when people are awake."

Katsuo smiled. "Well yeah. It's not fun if no one fights back now is it?"

Isamu hummed in agreement and yawned. Smacking Katsuo once more with his pillow he placed it on the bed and laid down on his side facing the window before he added a playful insult. "Night jerk."

Katsuo placed his arm back over his eyes as he smirked. "Night moron."

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Mariko bustled around her shop. News had made it to her hours ago that Yuzuki was at the local hospital in labor. It was late night, around 11:30 or so, and Yuzuki would be out of labor for only a few minutes now. If she was going to be successful she would have to hurry.

A few lanterns dimly light the ambiance of the room giving it an uncanny sort of look. Shadows cast their way over the floor and seemed to come alive whenever there was a flicker of a wick. She walked over to a cabinet and began searching. She then pulled out a sachet and when she opened it a sweet odor wafted outwards.

She placed the vase she had taken from the old trunk that morning and sachet of colored dried leaves and flower petals on the table next to the wall. She made her way over towards another cabinet in the back of the room. Floor boards creaked as she walked over them. In the cabinet vials of liquids were scattered around different shelves and she pulled out a vile of red liquid tinted purple. Setting it on the table next to everything else she went into a back room and returned with several red and white candles. Mariko set them up in a circle with a small bowl in the middle.

She lit the candles and poured the leaf flower mixture and liquid into the small bowl. She started her chanting and slowly burned the bowls contents. The burning herbs gave off a smell similar to incense. At first nothing happened, then a white smoke started to rise up from the opened vase.

In mid air the vapor started to form into an animal or some sort. The white mass drifted upward towards the ceiling. A huge gust of wind started to blow throwing things around the room. Glass pots and other things flew and hit walls causing loud crashing noises and shards of tattered glass to land upon the floor. Papers blew everywhere and the incense enveloped the entire room. More and more white smoke wafted up out of the jar and the temperature throughout the room changed from a pleasant warmth to a chilling cold that made Mariko's teeth chatter. In front of her she could see the foggy mist of her own breath.

This went on for only a few moments until the white smoke stopped its decent upwards and disappeared completely, the violent wind subsiding leaving the room a tattered mess. Glass and papers splayed across the floor, pictures either barely hung to the wall or were thrown off adding to the clutter on the floor. Various other objects were strewn about and more than half of the lanterns had blown out.

Mariko walked outside, her hands rubbing quickly up and down her arms trying to warm her body. She stopped in her tracks awestruck, around the little shop there was at least an inch worth of snow, but it was no where else. This was strange; it never snowed in the Moon Country. Not even in December. The only time the weather changed from a pleasant warmth to a chilled cold was in the late autumn and half way through the winter seasons, but it never got cold enough to snow.

Mariko stared at the frozen white surrounding her and smiled. It was a beautiful sight to her who had never seen snow before. She then turned her attention towards the sky watching clouds slowly move over the stars and moon. She had a feeling in her gut that she was successful.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

AN: Well that was the prologue. Hope you liked it. Sorry no violent battles in this chapter, I thought it was long enough as it is. Most likely in the next one I'll have one. Review if you like. Thanks for reading.

~Snowy


	2. Pious Stranger

**Shadow of the Moon**

**Pious Stranger**

Yuzuki cradled the cream fleece of embroidered blankets surrounding a now quiet baby girl of only twenty minuets old. Beads of sweat still covered flushed cheeks and small pangs of remaining pain pounded in her abdomen. She smiled through it though. Happiness seemed to quiet the dull throbbing and the otherwise uncomfortably damp hospital gown.

To Yuzuki the pain she endured to bring her child into the world was more than worth it. She considered herself blessed. She no longer had one child, but two. It didn't take long to recall the first time she had undergone the meticulous task of childbirth, but the pain didn't matter. What mattered to Yuzuki were the euphoric fortunate feelings that consumed her as she held her baby close and lovingly to her chest.

According to the doctors she had a good delivery and a healthy baby. Yuzuki thanked God for both as she ran a finger over the infant's sleeping face.

Renzo, her husband of twelve years, didn't really seem interested in their daughter but she refused to let that get her down. She was convinced he would come around eventually. She believed he wasn't interested in their little girl because she was just that, a girl. Renzo was thrilled ten years ago when she gave birth to their son, but nine months ago when she revealed to him she was pregnant he seemed neither excited nor angry, just accepting really. He accepted it and left it be the entire pregnancy, concentrating his attention on Katsuo and his training.

During the beginning of her labor she worried. Worried he was in fact angry, or whether what he was doing. He had helped her to the hospital, but since they had taken her into her room she hadn't seen nor heard anything from him or of him. She wasn't even sure he was still at the hospital at all anymore, but she let go of her distress and enjoyed the contentment of the moment before she too fell asleep holding her child.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Katsuo yawned and stretched out next to Isamu who continued to snore noisily next to him. Early morning rays seeped through the window and splayed over the varnished hardwood of the floor, casting shadows of the bedposts and nightstands. He sat up and looked around the room taking in the fact that Ayame too was still asleep and stood up. Grabbing his backpack he made his way out the door and down the long hallway as quiet as possible, so he didn't wake Daisuki sensei, and into the bathroom.

Katsuo quickly changed clothes and brushed his teeth. He walked back to the room he shared with Ayame and Isamu combing his hair along the way.

He stopped and stood before the door silently chuckled to himself as he heard Isamu's loud snoring creeping under the door accompanied by a few muttered words he couldn't quite make out. He slowly cracked the door and set his pack inside against the wall beside the door before closing it again and walking to the front lobby of the inn. Some of the staff, maids and a few cooks mainly, buzzed about either just getting there or going to help a customer.

He glanced above the front desk at the clock hanging on the wall, 8:30. Katsuo hummed slightly before picking up his sandals and slipping them on. Since they had accompanied Eiji safely here any more time they spent in the village now would be considered vacation and he had a feeling they may be here for a few more days. He saw no harm in taking in the sights and mapping the layout of the village.

Once his sandals were on Katsuo left the inn and started up the right side of the street, reading the signs as he went. It was quiet since most of the stores wouldn't open till around 9:00. Most of the places were restaurants and coffee shops that served different varieties of food, some foreign that he hadn't even heard of before, but the smell that wafted out of the doors of the open few made his mouth water.

The others were art shops, music places, and clothing stores. Next to the inn on the left side was a hot springs and a few fancy places to eat were you would not only need a vast knowledge of proper etiquette but would have to be dressed lavish and expensively just to get in the door. He had been to a few places like that with his mother. They were places were you'd pay a hundred dollars for a common meal and get a the smallest portion possible because they believe it's proper to only take three bites of everything and be full. He hated those places and it was the main reason they didn't go anymore.

Katsuo turned down another street. More clothing stores, a little shop that sold fine china, and a place that sold musical instruments and the lessons to operate them lined the street. There was more scenery along this road as well. Colorful masses of trees and bushes separated a few of the stores and plants that would contain brightly colored flowers if it was summer were planted in gardens running along the front and sides of the shops.

The streets were getting busier now, shop owners trying to get everything ready before 9:00 so they could open their stores and children anywhere from ages 5-8 making their way to the academy. Katsuo pushed through a bubbly group of children chattering about chakra and other lessons while a few bragged about their own abilities. He shook his head rolling his eyes a bit as he continued on his way up the street, trying to avoid bumping into the anxious and fervent students and the occasional shop keeper.

Katsuo whirled around due to an unexpected tug at the hem of his light jean jacket. A small girl stood before him staring up at him with an awed smile plastered on her juvenile face. She gestured an excited finger towards the cross rosary dangling around his neck. "What religions that?"

Katsuo paused, stunned for a moment, not entirely sure how to answer her. He wasn't expecting such a question from anyone let alone a 6 or 7 year old girl. "Uh, well it's Catholic."

"What's Catholic?"

"Well, it's a religion that believes in God and Jesus. It's rather hard to explain actually." Katsuo ran a hand through his hair hoping she would be satisfied with the answer and move along, but to his dismay she stayed put. Her features became more puzzled than before and he sighed heavily knowing he was in for more questions.

She cocked her head sideways; curiosity laced her innocent and youthful voice. "Who's Jesus?"

Katsuo shook his head. This was not how he wanted to spend his morning at all. "Jesus is God's son who died for our sins." Suddenly a thought crossed his mind and he arched an eyebrow at the girl. "Shouldn't you be going to the academy?"

Katsuo was taken back by the girl's sudden giggling. "Class doesn't start for a while. I'll get there in time. So what are sins?"

He sighed again and rubbed his temples. The option of telling the girl to get lost instead of answering her was really starting to appeal to him at the moment. "Sins are things that offend a moral principal."

The girl frowned at him "Huh?"

"Um… Hmm, let me think of an example." Katsuo scratched his head a minute thinking of something that she would understand as she waited patiently for his answer. "Alright, sins are like when you do something you're not supposed to. Say your mother made cookies and said you couldn't have one till after dinner and you take one anyway, that's kind of what a sin is. If the bible says not to do something and you do it anyways it's a sin."

The girl smiled and bounced up and down a moment. "Oh, I get it now. But wait. What if you sin, then what?"

"Well if you sin in the Catholic religion you go to confession and repent for your sins."

Her brows furrowed slightly. "What's confession?"

"Confession is when you tell what you did." Katsuo let a smidgen of annoyance escape and lace his words hoping she may take the hint and leave. It wasn't that he didn't like talking or didn't like his religion; he just didn't like talking _about_ his religion.

The girl obviously didn't get his hidden message as she began asking her questions once again. "Oh, so you tell someone what you did and then what?"

"Well you tell a priest what you did and then he tells you how you can make it up to God."

"So you tell the priest what you did then he tells you how to get God to be happy with you again?" Her hazel eyes sparkled as she repeated what he told her.

"Yes that's about it." Relief filled him. He believed he had answered her questions and she would be leaving now.

"What happens if God isn't happy with you anymore?"

"Then you go to hell." Katsuo growled in his mind. The little blonde girl obviously wasn't finished thinking up questions. He tried to keep his answers as simple as possible, hoping the little information he gave would be enough to appease her, but wouldn't be enough for her to come up with more questions.

He watched her gasp when he said the word _hell_. "That's a bad word."

He chuckled at her. "It's only a bad word if you say it as one. Hell is the place God sends sinners that don't try to gain forgiveness or break the commandments."

"Commandments? What's those?"

"The 10 commandments are basically the top ten rules God wants everyone to follow."

"What are they?"

Katsuo held up his hands counting them off as he went. "Well the first is that no one should put anyone before God. The second is that no one should take God's name in vain. Third, remember the Sabbath. Fourth, honor your mother and father. Fifth, do not kill. Sixth, do not commit adultery. Seventh, do not steal. Eighth, do not bear false witness against your neighbor. Ninth, you shall not covet your neighbor's wife. Tenth, you shall not covet your neighbor's property."

The girl hummed seemingly thinking about them a moment. "I don't understand some of them, but what about the killing one? Don't shinobi kill all the time? Does that mean all shinobi are going to… um, there?" Katsuo watched her point at the ground as she said _there_.

Katsuo sighed. He didn't know the answer to that one. He didn't know if God overlooked killing as long as it was for the sake of other people, the village, or for your own life. "I don't know if God makes exceptions or not. I guess it's up to him when people die to decide whether they go to heaven or not."

"So if I follow those rules I'll go to heaven?"

"Well you have to be Catholic. If you are and you follow those rules then yes you will."

"I wanna go to heaven. How do I become Catholic?"

"Well you need to go to a Catholic church and be baptized."

The young girl pointed up at his chest. "Oh, then do I get one of those pretty necklaces too?"

Katsuo laughed slightly. "Yes then you can have a rosary."

The little girl smiled and jumped up and down excitedly. "Yay I'm gonna go and be baptized so I can go to heaven and get a pretty necklace too."

Katsuo watched the bubbly little girl stop hopping around. "Good for you. I guess that means you'll be on your way to the academy now right?"

The girl gasped. "Oh yeah I forgot about that. Ok I gotta go now. Thank you for answering my questions. Bye bye."

Katsuo watched the girl turn and start running off towards the academy until he could not see her retreating form any longer and breathed a sigh of relief. He shook his head thinking the whole experience was somewhat of a weird one. He still didn't understand just why she would be so curious about his religion. In fact he didn't even know why she noticed his rosary in the first place. It's not like it was obvious or stood out or anything. It was just a silver cross surrounded by black beads held together by a simple silver chain. He would understand if it was colorful or something.

Katsuo shrugged, turned around, and continued on his way through the village. He knew the conversation with the girl didn't take nearly as long as it seemed. It was funny, he thought, how things you don't want to do seem to take forever but those you do want to do seem to go by way too fast. He continued walking along the cobblestone, taking in the scenery and reading the shop signs once more as he went. Most of the shops were open now and he waited for one to catch his attention, but they were basically all the same and those that weren't he really had no interest for. He wasn't an artist so art shops were out. He wasn't particularly interested in learning a music instrument. He had no use for fine china, a pet, furniture, or groceries so those were out.

He stopped in front of a small store across from the large park in the center of the village that sold all kinds of ninja equipment. Shrugging he pushed open the door and stood next to a checkout counter were the lady instantly greeted him with a cheerful "Good Morning" and a saccharine smile. There were several isles with signs hanging above them listing off a few of the major items that could be found in that particular section. Katsuo walked through the store looking at different things that drew his attention, but didn't find anything he needed right now or wanted.

He left the store feeling rather bored and quite hungry as his stomach starting to growl loudly. He walked over to a shop selling dango and ordered a couple skewers and a small cup of tea. Taking his food over to a bench across the way he sat down picking up one of the wooden sticks on his plate and dipping the dumplings into the bowl of sweet syrup. Katsuo took a bite savoring the sweetness. He ate slowly listening to the birds chirping and the occasional couple talking.

Katsuo had finished three of the five skewers when the large group of chattering academy students and their teachers arrived gathering a few meters away. He listened to the older man and young woman give the students instructions on what they wanted them to do. The man was teaching the boys survival skills obviously, since he asked the students to pick plants that were edible and that they had till the end of class to show him what they had gathered. The woman was teaching the girls flower arranging, asking them to put together a bouquet with a main flower and complimenting flowers.

Katsuo wrapped his fingers around the warm porcelain cup of green tea and drank it quickly. Although it was afternoon now the weather was getting colder and his jacket seemed too light all of a sudden. When the cup was empty he set it aside and went back to finishing what was left of his dango. He had just finished the fourth stick of dumplings when the sound of a small ruckus caught his attention.

Three boys who had to be 8 or 9 stood over a smaller younger boy maybe around 6, 7 at the most. Katsuo quickly scanned the class looking for anyone that had any of the same unique characteristics of the young boy, but found none.

The boy stood out from everyone. He was by far the youngest and the smallest, but his features weren't like any he had ever seen before. The boy's locks of silver hair were as long as his shoulders in the back but only half way down his face in the front with bangs that covered the center of his forehead and stopped just above his nose. His deep purple irises stared up at the three boys burning with rage and hate. His childish features twisted in a grimace. Blood seeped out of his split upper lip and rolled down his chin dripping to the grass below. He lifted the back of his hand up and wiped his chin smearing the scarlet over his pale skin. The three boys laughed and pointed at him teasing and mooching as he shook with anger.

Katsuo looked around for one of the teachers but didn't see either one. In fact he didn't see the group of girls at all. He came to the assumption they had gone to another place in the park entirely and didn't give it another thought, but still, where was the other teacher? Surly he didn't leave his class, or did he? Katsuo turned his attention back to the brawl. Two of the older boys had brown hair while the other a light sandy blond color. He couldn't make out anymore since their backs were to him but the tallest seemed to be the leader of the three.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

The tall brunette smacked the silver haired boy across the face. His head snapped to the side and a spray of crimson flew from his mouth along with a painful hiss. "You're such a moron Hidan. No wonder everyone hates you." The trio laughed as the tallest punched the wounded boy again. More blood flew from his mouth and the new formed slice in his cheek.

Hidan looked up at his attackers giving as hateful a stare as he could muster, but his young features didn't give it the menace he wanted and the boys began laughing harder. Hidan growled hating the sound and snarled at the tallest boy. "Fuck you bastard."

The laughing ceased almost immediately. The taller kicked Hidan in the face and pushed his head into the dirt applying pressure with his foot. "What'd you say prick?"

The taller smirked as his question was answered with a series of muffled cries and vulgarities and he began pushing the boys face harder into the ground. Hidan began squirming from under the boy's foot trying to get free. He began to feel dizzy from a lack of oxygen. Fear of dying registered in his mind when he felt his head being pushed down even harder and panic began clawing at his stomach, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

He started thrashing wildly trying his hardest to free himself. Suddenly the foot was removed from his head only to come violently in contact with his stomach. Pain shot through his ribs as the wind was knocked out of him in a loud raspy gasp and he was temporarily unable to draw air back into his lungs.

Hidan laid there unable to move or speak and listened to their sadistic laughter. The very sound made his already nauseous stomach churn with contempt. Tears welled up in his eyes from the throbbing pain in his gut and ribs. Thoughts of killing the three boys above swam in his mind. He pictured himself standing over the tall brunette as he lay in pool of deep red clutching his torn open throat. He could see himself smiling and laughing maniacally at him. He was so ignorant to his pain and to the pain he caused others. He wanted him to feel what he felt and then some. He wanted to tear all three of them to pieces till there was nothing left.

Hidan slowly regained composure blinking away the salty liquid that welded up in his eyes and began breathing shallowly. He sat up and began rubbing his side completely aware of the three pairs of eyes glaring down at him.

"What's wrong Hidan? You want your mommy?"

"What happened to the big tuff guy, huh?"

Hidan growled loud enough for them to hear. "Fuck you, Fuck all of you. One day I'll kill you."

All three laughed at him again as one of their fists smashed into his face forcing him to fall sideways. "Oh you'll kill us? Yeah, that's a big laugh. You're too weak to even hit one of us and you're going to kill us?"

"I already told you I will." Hidan forced himself back into a sitting position. "I'll rip your fucking throat out you stupid prick."

Hidan waited for one of them to smack him again but was surprised when it never came. He lifted his head to a smacking sound. The tallest of the three was kneeling on the ground holding his bleeding mouth while the others were busy backing away from someone he never saw before.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Katsuo sat on the stone bench trying to ignore the four boys across the way. He kept trying to convince himself it was none of his business and to leave it alone. He figured the teacher would be back soon enough and then things would be taken care of.

He looked around noticing the other students would stand for a moment and watch the confrontation their four classmates were having, but didn't do anything or bother to step in for the younger's sake. He could have sworn he actually heard a few insults and a "he deserves it" thrown in the silver haired boy's direction. Katsuo cocked his head watching the young boy struggle under the oldest boy's foot.

He watched as the simple struggling to get free turned into desperate panic. He had half a mind to hold the tall boy under his own foot. Katsuo turned his head sideways when he saw the figure of the class teacher out of the corner of his eye.

The older man took one glance towards the fight, shook his head, and turned away. Katsuo could honestly say he was shocked at the least. Appalled really. If any of the teachers in Moon Country saw any of them fighting that way not only would they be expelled for a week but their names were written down. Anyone who acted up again before the end of the month was kicked out of the academy and they had to do the year over again. There was only one student in his class that was thrown out. It may seem like a small number but that was more than enough to show everyone else the teachers weren't joking.

"What's wrong Hidan? You want your mommy?"

"What happened to the big tuff guy, huh?"

"Fuck you, Fuck all of you. One day I'll kill you."

Katsuo decided he had enough of watching this. Putting his plate and cup aside he stood up and strode over just as the boy received another blow. Katsuo decided it was the last.

Just as the leader of the little group went to punch the cowering boy Katsuo grabbed his wrist, his own fist smashing into the boy's mouth. He stumbled backwards and kneeled down holding his bleeding jaw, the others gaped wide eyed at him clearly staring at the headband tied around his upper arm. Katsuo smirked at their fear and closed his eyes. "I hope you realize you've interrupted my lunch."

"Who are you?"

"That doesn't really matter now does it?"

"Why are you helping that freak?"

Katsuo opened his eyes again staring at the tall brown haired boy. "Why are you such a jackass?"

He smirked as the boy clearly took offense and grew angry. "Screw you! You don't know anything about me asshole."

Katsuo t'ched at him. "I've known people like you my whole life. Now get out of here before I finish what I started on your jaw."

The tall brunette opened and shut his mouth, thinking better of arguing with the shinobi, and left with his two friends.

Katsuo walked over to the boy who was staring up at him, blood still oozing from the various wounds on his face. Grabbing him by the arm he hoisted the boy to his feet and began walking back to the bench he was sitting at earlier.

"Oi, why'd you help me?"

Katsuo watched the kid chase after him out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back in front of him. "No one else was." He reached the bench and sat down picking up his plate with the last skewer of dango sitting on the glass surface. A small shadow spread over the plate and his eyes. He didn't have to look up to know the boy was standing in front of him.

"So, you didn't have to."

Katsuo sighed "Yeah, I know that."

"So… am I supposed to thank you or something?" The boy's unsure calm tone seemed strange after hearing him speak with such menace just moments ago.

"You don't have to."

"Well thanks anyway I guess."

"Yeah sure." Katsuo went to pick up the last skewer of dango when a tiny form slumped down next to him. Katsuo turned towards him. "Shouldn't you go home or something?"

The boy scoffed at him. "Why the hell would I do that?"

Katsuo raised an eyebrow and flicked his head towards the retreating class. "Well the class is gone and you are still bleeding."

The boy's eyes narrowed with anger, his acrimonious tone catching Katsuo off guard. "So what I'm not going to that hell hole till I have to."

Katsuo raised a brow and hummed. "I see." He picked up the wooden skewer when a small grumble erupted from the boy's stomach next to him. Sighing and rolling his eyes he set the skewer back on the plate and held it in front of the boy.

"Huh? I can have it? Seriously?"

"Yeah, just take it."

The boy took the plate and began eating.

"So what's your name?" Katsuo stared at him waiting for an answer.

"Hidan." Katsuo watched him set the plate aside when he was finished with it. "So?"

"So what?" Katsuo arched a brow. Hidan seemed as though he was waiting for something but he didn't know what.

"You supposed to say your name when someone tells you theirs."

"It's Katsuo."

Hidan smirked wiping away the blood that trickled out of the cut he tore back open when his lips stretched. "So Katsuo how bout some more dango?"

Sighing he shook his head and walked over to the little shop ordering more dumplings and tea. Hidan watched him from the bench subconsciously rubbing his aching side until Katsuo returned handing him a plate of food and a cup of tea. Hidan took it and began downing it immediately. Katsuo watched him for a moment unable to get over his saliently young age. Finally he could no longer fight his curiosity. "You seem a bit young to be in the academy. How old are you?"

Hidan continued munching but held up one of his hands, widely spreading all five of his fingers apart the way a two year old would choose to indicate their age.

Katsuo's eyes widened slightly with surprise. "Five? Really?"

Hidan merely shook his head in the affirmative as he picked up his cup and took a sip of the hot liquid. Setting it down gently on the bench he picked up a new skewer and began eating again.

Silence enveloped them as Hidan finished the dumplings and tea. Katsuo piled the dishes together returning them to them to the shop. This time though, Hidan followed after him rubbing at his side and chattering on about the cold. Katsuo chuckled a bit since Hidan just couldn't seem to decide whether he liked the cold or not. Noticing Katsuo's chuckle Hidan looked up at the towering figure he was walking next to. "Seriously I don't know if the cold is good or not. Do you like it?"

Katsuo tilted his head from side to side a few times as if weighing the reasons to like it and the reasons not to. "Yeah, I guess I like the cold to an extent."

Hidan continued following Katsuo towards the Northern side of the village. "So where are we going anyways?"

"Well _I_ was going to meat my team at the inn we're staying at. _You_ just seem to be following me."

Hidan laughed and kept pace next to him. "Yeah I guess I am, but I already told you I'm not going home to that hell hole till I have to, seriously."

Katsuo arched a brow. "And what exactly makes it a hell hole?"

Hidan furrowed his eyebrows and grimaced. "My dads a fucking bastard and my moms a fucking drunk. Not much else to say."

Katsuo Tsk'ed. "You know you shouldn't use language like that. You're only five."

Hidan glared up at him. "Like I fucking care, seriously."

Katsuo shook his head. "So is it just you and your parents?"

"Yeah. How bout you?"

"Yeah, just me and my parents at the moment. But my mother is due to have a baby soon so it won't be for long." Hidan shook his head signaling he had heard him but had nothing to add. Katsuo saw his hand reach subconsciously for his side once more and stopped walking, halting Hidan as well. "What's wrong with your side?"

Hidan flushed slightly, embarrassed about his injuries and shook his head vigorously from side to side. "It's nothing, seriously."

Katsuo crouched down, grabbing Hidan's arm and pulling him closer. "Let me see it."

Hidan jerked his arm several times trying to break free of the iron grip. Finding it impossible he relaxed, using his free hand to pull up his shirt and reveal his bruised side. Katsuo's fingers slid over the darkening purple blotch earning a hiss of pain, his fingers stopped over the lower part of the boy's ribs. He dropped his fingers and released Hidan's arm as he stood back up. "Two are broken. We should take you to the hospital."

Hidan shook his head violently. "I'm not going there either. I hate that place, seriously."

Katsuo rolled his eyes and began wondering if there was a place in this world the boy didn't hate. "I guess Daisuki can help you. Let's go."

Hidan walked as fast as he could to keep up with Katsuo's brisk pace. "Who's he?"

"My sensei, now hurry up."

Hidan growled threw clenched teeth. "I'm fucking going as fast as I can. Would you slow down a little? Seriously."

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Back at the inn Daisuki and his two remaining pupils were just sitting down to lunch which consisted of sushi, rice, ohagi, and tea, after a quick visit from Eiji, who stopped by to ask how they were enjoying their stay. Daisuki shifted on the tatami mat trying to get comfortable. He picked up his chopsticks and started on the small bowl of rice. Ayame and Isamu were currently busy arguing about Isamu's excessively loud snoring and how "no one on Earth could get any sleep with him around."

Isamu picked up his chopsticks and started picking at his sushi. "Don't use my snoring as an excuse for not getting up till 10:30."

Ayame furrowed her eyebrows. "It's not an excuse, its fact."

Isamu waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that."

Ayame gave him a choleric stare as he picked up a piece of fish and ate it, smiling with obvious victory. Snapping her head away in a frustrated manner she began picking at her own meal, thinking it would be better to eat now while it was still warm.

Daisuki's door slid open revealing Katsuo with a small silver haired boy standing next to him. Katsuo gave the boy a small push forward, walking in after him and sliding the door closed.

Ayame's eyes sparkled as she jumped up and ran over to the boy. Hidan stood rigidly still as the overly excited girl ruffled up his hair and went on and on about how cute he was. An embarrassed Hidan began moving away from her, edging closer to Katsuo as if he would protect him from the ecstatically happy girl.

Isamu took in the boy's appearance and obvious discomfort as Ayame crouched in front of him and pinched his cheek. The poor boy. They were all used to Ayame's craziness. For some reason she really liked kids and even helped out at the academy when she had free time. Most of the kids liked her too, but judging by the boy's face she was creeping him out. "Jeez Ayame lay off, your scaring the hell out of him. He's a boy not a puppy."

The red haired girl, Hidan now knew was Ayame, snapped her head towards his glaring evilly. "Shut up Isamu. I am not."

Isamu gestured towards the boy. "Come on just look at the poor kid. I wouldn't be surprised if he ran right through the door to get away from you."

Daisuki sighed and picked his book up from the table and began reading. Ah, Make Out Paradise. If he ever met the man who wrote it he'd shake his hand.

Ayame growled as she stalked towards the table smacking Isamu in the head and pounding her fists on the table. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Isamu rubbed his head and shrugged putting on an innocent face. "Not much. It just means that you're scary that's all."

"Why you." The red head smacked him again.

While Isamu and Ayame bickered Katsuo pushed Hidan forward towards his sensei. Daisuki closed his book and set it back on the table looking at the boy currently being shoved towards him. The scratches on his face caught his attention and the way the boy continued to clutch at his side worried him. Daisuki smiled brightly beckoning for him to sit next to him by patting the tatami mat on his left hand side before he glanced up at Katsuo. "So who's this?"

Katsuo made his way up to the table and sat cross-legged next to Hidan who shifted nervously about like a jittery two year old. He gestured towards Hidan with his thumb. "Hidan here needs some medical attention and he refuses to go to the hospital. I thought you might be able to do something for him." Hidan glared up at him who smirked in return.

Daisuki smiled at Hidan who instantly averted his gaze. Katsuo's smirk widened slightly. Who would have guessed the little five year old foul mouth that blew off a few broken ribs would be shy around grown-ups? "Well I could probably do something. What's wrong with him exactly?"

"Some broken ribs and a few cuts."

Daisuki eyes widened in surprise, glancing down at Hidan. "How'd that happen?"

Hidan chose to stay quiet and just shrugged continuing to stare at the floor and twiddle his thumbs.

"Just a little fight at the park." Katsuo nudged Hidan with his elbow.

Hidan squirmed and glanced out the corner of his eyes at white haired shinobi. "Yeah, that's all."

"Hmm… I see." Daisuki stood from the table making his way into the bathroom and returning with a small box, clearly a first aid kit. He sat down, this time facing Hidan, before opening the small box and wetting down a piece of gauze with hydrogen peroxide. Grasping his chin he forced Hidan to look up, dabbed at the cuts with the antiseptic.

Ayame bounded over, Isamu sat behind her his head resting on the table with blood streaming down his chin. "He'll be ok right Daisuki-sensei?"

Concentrated on his work, Daisuki merely nodded a yes. When he finished cleaning the scrapes he had Hidan turn so as to give him better access to his bruised side. Laying his hand over the fabric of his shirt he concentrated his chakra into his hand, which soon became a visible green, slowly fusing the broken bones back together.

Only a few minutes had gone by until the hand was removed, but to Hidan it seemed much longer. It seemed being healed by chakra hurt just as much as receiving the injuries. Well maybe not as bad, but it still burned nonetheless. Hidan rubbed at his side, trying to rid himself of the sensation, surprised when he was quickly successful.

Daisuki smiled brightly and patted Hidan's head before he stood again and returned the first aid kit back to its former place under the sink.

Ayame in the meantime was squealing joyfully and clutching Hidan to her like a rag doll. "Hidan-kun you're so cute."

Both Isamu and Katsuo tried their hardest to keep from bursting with laughter. The look on Hidan's face was absolutely priceless. He looked, quite literally, like a deer caught in the headlights. He was wide-eyed in complete shock with cheeks tinted a dark shade of puce.

Ayame rubbed her cheek against his hair cooing on about his cuteness as he tried desperately to push her away from him, sadly though, he wasn't strong enough and her grip on him tightened. During some point of the struggle Katsuo and Isamu lost all self control and were currently laughing hysterically, Hidan's features torn between the embarrassed wide eyes and a furrowed browed glair.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Katsuo wandered back toward the park with Hidan keeping pace next to him, smiling with relief to finally be from Ayame, or as he referred to her as "that crazed woman." It had been hours since he took Hidan to his sensei for healing and at sometime during the fun of watching Hidan ran like a bat out of hell as Ayame gave chase, desperate to catch her "cute Hidan-kun", it had grown dark, and Katsuo insisted on walking him home. No matter how much the younger complained he would be fine.

"Is she always that fuckin crazy?"

Katsuo smiled down at Hidan who kept his gaze firmly locked on the cobblestone street, illuminated by the amber glow of numerous streetlamps. Feeling like having a little fun with him Katsuo thought up just the right thing to say to press the younger's buttons. "Yeah pretty much… You know the way you were blushing back there someone might think you actually liked all the attention she gave you."

Hidan's face paled a ghostly white, his arms crossed over his chest defensively. "The hell I did. Take that back."

Katsuo chuckled. "Alright fine I take it back."

Hidan watched Katsuo continue to smile out of the corner of his eyes and shake his head to keep from laughing. Squinting his eyes in irritation he punched Katsuo in the arm, just hard enough to get his attention. "Shut up already. It's not that funny, seriously."

Katsuo sighed still smirking. The two remained silent as they continued towards the park. Once they reached their destination Hidan pointed down the left road telling him his house was just down the street and he could go the rest of the way on his own. Seeing Hidan's earnest to continue alone he gave in to the other's wishes, watching him walk off down the street before turning away. Katsuo suspected Hidan had something he wanted to hide about his family, and if so, he would respect that.

Katsuo started a slow pace back to the inn, just in case something should happen to Hidan on his way home, though he had great doubt anything would, he could get there and help him. He kind of liked the kid actually. It wasn't everyday you met someone like Hidan.

Katsuo pulled his jacket closer to his body. It was colder here than in his village. The entire Moon Country was known for its warm and mild climate which made it a tourist attraction. It was never at the mercy of winter or temperatures this cold. It was safe to say he wasn't used to it and most likely never would be.

A chilly breeze blew and his pace quickened. He couldn't wait to get back to the inn where it was warm. He was starting to get tired as well, and all he really wanted to do when he returned was relax a while, maybe read a little.

Katsuo stopped dead in his tracks as the soft thumping of footsteps sounded from behind him, seeming uncomfortably close. He was more than aware of the feel of eyes burning into his back. The footsteps stopped suddenly feeding his discomfort.

"Hmm… You noticed me sooner than I anticipated." What was clearly a man's voice spoke softly from behind him. Dark and foreboding, laced with power, but in a way calm and gentle. A strange combination.

Katsuo turned to face him, slipping a hand into his pocket his fingers gripped the hilt of a kunai. The figure before him was tall, wrapped in a cloak that looked akin to something a monk would wear. Dark tresses were cut short, similar to a buzz cut, with a cleanly shaved face. Dark eyes burrowed into his own. Neither said anything, merely stared at one another for a time.

Unexpectedly the man smirked at him. Shifting slightly his hand raised slowly to the top of his cloak, popping a few of the buttons to reveal his neck along with a necklace. "Well where are my manners? I'm Hisashi, Head Priest of Jashin." He gestured towards the silver pendant hanging loosely around his neck, a silver chain holding a silver circle with a triangle inside.

Katsuo tilted his head slightly to the left indicating he was listening, but remained quiet. Although he didn't sense any danger from the man he kept his guard up watching his movements closely.

Hisashi smiled at him. "You know anything about Jashin, kid?"

Katsuo arched and eyebrow and shook his head no.

"Hmm… You have a name kid?"

"Katsuo."

Hisashi continued to smile broadly at the boy in front of him. He was intrigued by him. Mainly because of the fact he didn't relinquish his guard even though he suppressed his chakra and used deliberately slow movements. He had heard him, watched him earlier speak to the young girl about his religion and the fact that he was so committed is what brought him here now. After tonight he would be leaving the village with a few new recruits and he hoped to make this boy, Katsuo, one of them. "Well Katsuo, you have a strong aura about you. I'm impressed."

Katsuo watched him cautiously. He couldn't shake the feeling that the man was up to something. "Thanks I guess."

Hisashi put his hands up showing Katsuo his right hand bared no weapon and all that was in his left was a book. "Look kid I'm not here to fight you or anything. You could ease up a little already. I was just curious if you'd be interested in hearing about Jashin."

Katsuo let up on his guard just a little and shook his head. "No, I'm not interested." He gestured towards his rosary as Hisashi had done earlier. "I have a religion if you haven't noticed."

Hisashi chuckled. "Oh yes I noticed. That's precisely why I'm here. Tell me Katsuo wouldn't you like to go to heaven?"

Katsuo squinted his left eye more perplexed than ever. "Of course I want to go to heaven. Who doesn't?"

"Well if I'm not mistaken, according to the Catholic faith you're already doomed to hell are you not?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Killing someone is such a terrible sin in the Catholic religion. It's practically unforgivable… but in the Jashin religion killing is just the opposite. It's the ideal faith for anyone choosing to be a shinobi that still wishes to enter the Kingdom of Heaven." Hisashi gave Katsuo a wicked smile and tossed him the black book, which he caught with ease. "Take it kid. Think of it as a gift, my gift to you."

Katsuo had no time to answer before Hisashi's chakra spiked and he disappeared in a puff of smoke. He held the book up into the small spray of light coming from the nearby streetlight and realized it was a bible. If it were anything but a bible he probably would have thrown it out. Morally he couldn't. Even though it was a different religion, one he didn't himself believe in, he couldn't deny the fact that throwing the bible away was sacrilege.

He ran his fingers over the leather cover and binding before tracing the circle and triangle symbol on the front. Hisashi's words echoed through his head. He did want to go to heaven. Hisashi was right though, he was already doomed to hell. Killing was a terrible sin and he had committed it more than once. He held on to the hope that he would be welcomed into heaven despite killing others. He did it for a good reason right? He did it to protect others, to protect his village, to protect himself. His fingers stopped moving over an indentation. He opened the bible to see a rosary entirely like the one Hisashi was wearing.

Katsuo sighed wearily. He closed the bible and tucked it into his kunai pouch before starting on his way back to the inn. He obviously had a lot of thinking to do.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed it. Sorry it's not real good right now. It should start getting better after this chapter since the prologue and this one were really just setting the stage. Anyways I have a few questions I'd like to ask. If you feel like answering me you can I'd really appreciate it cause really they have been bugging me. Ok my first two questions are about the older Naruto episodes.

1. I can't remember exactly what episode it is, I think it's 58 but I'm not sure, it's the one when Gaara tries to kill Rock Lee in the hospital after they fight in the chunin exams. Well in that episode Shikamaru uses his shadow technique to stop Gaara and when Naruto punches Gaara Shikamaru gets hurt too. So my question is why didn't Shikamaru get hurt in the shippuden episode when he stopped Hidan and Hidan was stabbed? I dunno it's been bugging me.

2. Ok number two. When Gaara is cut while battling Sasuke it says he's never bled before. In later episodes when Gaara talks about his past and he puts the love mark on his head he bleeds. Well maybe it's less of a question and more of a blooper or something.

3. Question three. What did you guys think of my portrayal of chibi Hidan? Oh and while I'm on the subject of chibi Hidan please don't tell me Hidan would never blush or something like that. I have some mixed emotions about that. I honestly think it's possible under the right circumstances but notice I'm not yet dealing with a grown up Hidan. I'm writing about a five year old and since there isn't anything about how he grew up or anything I'm basically on my own coming up with a past for him, but I think a young Hidan would blush oh and there is a reason for his young age swearing. ChibiHidan+Ayame=Funny

4. Ok and four. This is more of a poll actually. I have a theory on the whole immortal Jashinist thing but I'm not sure if I should give it now or wait and just incorporate it into the story. See I'm thinking on one hand I could be wrong and it might ruin the story, but on the other hand I may be right or it possible may be interesting to others and it would be a good surprise. Well if you want to hear what it is tell me if you don't tell me and let the majority win ^^

Ok I think I've taken up enough of your time. Lol

Hope you liked it.

~Snowy


	3. Introduction and a Graduation

**Author's Note: **Thank you to my reviewers for answering my questions and giving me your opinions. Truly appreciated, and I loved the comment about the lead pipe. Makes me laugh every time I read it. Anyways, lots of Hidan in this one. Basically my creation of a past for him since they never told us what really happened when he was younger. Just my little take on why he acts the way he does and has the appearance he has. And truthfully I'm not convinced he's really as unintelligent as the anime/manga portrays him as. Enjoy Chapter 2.

_**Shadow of the Moon **_

**Introduction and a Graduation**

A small girl sat cross-legged amongst a sward of billowing emerald within the shade of towering oaks and pines, hot yellow rays of heat streaking across the sky on a balmy summer day of mid June. A bright smile splayed over her lips, youthful icy blue irises filled with absolute astonishment as they followed the path of silver knives from her older brother's fingertips to the center of their target. His hands moved so effortlessly in their work, his concentration so profound.

Eyes sparkling with adoration she clutched a tiny stuffed animal closer to her chest in excitement as more knives whizzed through the air, following the path set by the first few and sinking into the center of their target. On and on kunai slipped from his hands to any and all surrounding targets within the training grounds until they stopped completely.

Katsuo smirked at his younger sister as she smiled broadly at him. Standing from her seated position she bounded over, pulling anxiously at the hem of his shirt, pointing towards a kunai filled target. "Nii-san me do that too."

Chuckling he ruffled her bluish black hair. "You're not old enough yet, maybe in a few months."

Reaching up she grasped the hand imbedded in her tinted tresses, holding it in her own tiny hand she yanked, pulling on his arm and whining. "But Nii-san…"

Arching a diverted eyebrow he pulled his arm gently in a mock fight and smiled, trying to imitate her high pitched whine. "But Rukia."

Lips turned downwards into a pout she relinquished her hold on him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Now now, don't be such a baby about it." He smirked broadly at her. "Oh wait I forgot, you are a baby." Lifting his hand he jabbed her forehead gently.

Tiny fingers rose, constricted his, refusing to let go her grip tightened as her mouth opened widely in outrage. "Am not."

Regal laughter erupted from Katsuo. "Says the not quite three year old."

Dropping his fingers and snapping her head to the side she refused to look at him. Katsuo rolled his eyes and splayed his fingers over the top of her head. "Let's go home."

Retracting his hand he began walking, looking out of the corner of his eye to make sure she was following him, sure enough she was.

Rukia jogged to keep up with his long strides which easily outpacing her own. Grasping tight the fluffy silver fur belonging to a wolf resembling stuffed animal she stopped, as to her brother. He pivoted, twisting around to meet her gaze.

Minuscule delicate arms rose up, fingers splaying clenching and unclenching, one of many childlike habits she had yet to overcome, a simple gesture with such a great meaning directly asking him to pick her up and carry her.

Happily he obliged, hoisting her fragile frame into his arms, resuming his excursion home. A content Rukia bouncing around in the security of his arms, chattering on in a somewhat incoherent manner.

Katsuo smirked to himself, ears trained on the sultry mellifluous tone emitting from supple lips. Little, seemingly insignificant things she did always got to him. Such as the way she continues to say "me" instead of "I", or the various gestures she uses even though she possesses the ability to voice her desires.

He frowned slightly, conflicted as to what to call it exactly. Was it cute? No. Cute wasn't a strong enough word for what he believed it to be. Adorable maybe, but not cute.

His deliberation was interrupted by the vociferous cry from his younger sister as their house and mother came into view. Yuzuki was waiting patiently on the veranda next to the kitchen door, her smile brightening with every footstep, her hand coming up to wave back at Rukia whose own hand was currently moving to and fro in front of his face.

Katsuo pushed past the gate, continuing on through the cherry blossom embellished courtyard he stepped onto the porch. Yuzuki greeting him chirpily as he passed Rukia into her outstretched arms, her hand grazing lovingly over his cheek. "How was practice?"

Rukia's nimble fingers tugged quickly at her mother's sleeve, successful in acquiring her attention she pouted. "Nii-san being mean to me."

Yuzuki gave a mock gasp and smiled unbelievingly at her. "Is he now? You tell me what he did to my little Rukia."

Rukia continued to fiddle with the light blue fabric of Yuzuki's sleeve, looking at her with the utmost seriousness a two year old could reflect. "He won't let me do ninja stuff."

"Really? Well we agreed not until you were three, you're still too young to handle kunai." Yuzuki tapped her daughter on the nose with her index finger and turned back to her son, Rukia sulking unhappily in her embrace.

Katsuo tossed Rukia a look of faux outrage. "Little tattletale. See if I take you again."

She pouted more, if it was even possible, and whined her apologies and promises of never telling on him again.

He shook his head and looked at his mother. "Yeah, practice was fine, but I have some paperwork I need to do for my team."

Yuzuki fought the disappointment that threatened her features. Since her son had become a jonin she rarely spent time with him. "Alright, I guess we'll see you at dinner then?"

"Sure." Katsuo pushed past her into the kitchen, pulling a drink from the fridge he began towards his room.

Rukia called after him, he stopped, turning around in time to see her squirm out of her mother's grasp and bound over to him. Lacing her fingers with his she gave a small yank. "Can I come nii-san?"

Katsuo rubbed the back of his hand over the nape of his neck, considering the possibilities of whether or not she'd be able to stay quiet long enough for him to work.

"Rukia let your brother get his work done."

Her face fell and she turned back to her mother. "But I wanna go wif nii-san."

"It's ok mom. She can come, I don't mind."

Yuzuki sighed but smiled all the same. "Alright, but don't pester your brother too much."

Rukia brightened instantly; smiling broadly she gave a cheerful shout and started pulling Katsuo out of the kitchen. He rolled his eyes and followed after her. He just knew he was going to regret this.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Hidan sat on a wood bench amongst the rest of his chattering classmates. Class hadn't started yet so naturally everyone was out of their seats, jabbering with their friends about things Hidan couldn't see the least bit of interest in. Maybe that was why; he in fact, had no friends.

Violet irises fell upon the varnished White Walnut wood that made up the desk in front of him. Was that it? Was it the fact that he refused to fake even the slightest bit of vague interest in the bullshit that spewed from their mouths, the reason he had no one?

His eyes squinted as loneliness set in. First a rhythmic pang at his heart, now an unwavering consumption of said organ. He shook his head, silver strands swaying with the movement and tickling his cheeks.

He grimaced at the sensation for reasons he himself didn't quite understand. It wasn't that the tickling was unpleasant or anything, it just reminded him of things he'd rather not recollect. His hand rose, sweeping from the front to the back, pulling the silver tresses with it. His hand fell and so did they, he sighed. If only they would stay back and out of the way.

Sunlight streamed in through a line of sash windows brightening the classroom painted a sickly yellow, rows of tables catching and reflecting the daylight glow. Head resting on his hand he stared out the window taking in the constant similar scenery, his violet hues seemingly sparkling in the light.

A group of four bubbly girls made its way next to him, he rolled his eyes and sighed as two sat beside him, trying to engage him in a flirtatious conversation. It had become a regular occurrence the past year. Though he was merely seven, girls anywhere from the same age to twelve would throw themselves at him, asking for something little of them had any knowledge of yet.

Not having what many would deem 'a normal home life' he had a rather vast knowledge of things that people believe only adults should know. It was more than apparent just listening to him, having developed the habit of swearing when he was heated or annoyed. But granted there were things he knew that people would never think nor consider believing he did. Hell sometimes he thought he knew more vulgar things than adults.

Hidan smirked recalling his teacher's flabbergasted face the day he got annoyed with one of his ongoing questions and told him straight to the point to fuck off.

He sighed heavily as the girls crowded closer to him obviously thinking his momentary smirk was directed at them. Ignoring the four girls he staring blankly at a knot in the desk. A small imperfection in the wood and the more he stared at it the more detail he deciphered, from the asymmetrical ridges to the flecks of several shades of black and brown.

To Hidan's dismay ignoring them only made them raise their voices and move in closer, uncomfortable so. He rolled his eyes and contemplated the joy of telling them all to get the fuck away from him, but there was one reason he put up with the superficial little group and he caught sight of it out the corner of his eye.

A group of five boys, each either eleven or twelve stood in the far back corner on the right side of the classroom chatting and giving him death glares. Ever since the four girls began flaunting over him his five classmates have been driving themselves crazy over it. Whether it was envy or hatred, or both didn't matter, he was superior to them. Even if it was only due to a trivial matter he liked the feeling of being better after a life of being considered the worst.

Hidan turned towards the group of five, making eye contact with who he knew to be the leader of the bunch. He gave him an arrogant smirk before turning back around, and for the first time acknowledging all four girls sending them into a giggling frenzy.

One of the younger ten year old girls leaned forward, closing some distance between their faces as she twirled a strand of golden hair between her fingers. "Hidan-kun Akemi wants to know which of us is the cutest. Tell her it's me."

Hidan fought down the annoyance and slight disgust that came when she practically purred his name. Mentally he threw every obscenity he knew at her, but physically he gave her a cocky grin as the rest of the girls spoke up.

"No Hidan-san say it's me." A sandy brunette whimpered beside him laying a hand on his arm, which he immediately wanted to shrug off.

"You? Hidan-san would never choose you because he wants me." The outraged dark haired brunette snapped.

"He doesn't want any of you because he wants me, right Hidan-kun?" A bubbly red head he knew was Akemi moved to the front of the desk to get a clear view of him.

The golden blonde reached over laying a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah right Akemi. Everyone knows I'm the prettiest, so naturally Hidan-kun would want me."

"You're so delusional Hiroko. I'm far prettier than you." Akemi growled at the blonde.

"Uh, excuse me. You're all delusional-." The sandy haired girl was cut off by the darker haired brunette.

"Oh shut up Gina."

"You shut up Yuri."

Hidan gave a heavy sigh as the four girls continued to fight amongst themselves.

The door swung open and Masahiko-sensei stepped in, a tall yellow haired man in his middle ages, a tough teacher but for the most part a nice person. "Alright class quiet down and grab a seat. Today is the graduation exam, when your name is called go to the back room where you will receive further instruction."

And with that Masahiko began reading off names periodically.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Hidan made his way towards home with confidant strides, a forehead protector clutched in his right hand, knuckles turned white from the sheer force he applied as if one of the teachers may find him inadequate and strip him of this one dignity.

The exam, to his dismay, had been as difficult as he feared. He had passed taijustu rather effortlessly, but then again taijutsu was more his forte than the other two. His ninjustu wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst either, his genjutsu unfortunately was. He knew for sure he failed that portion, but he passed ninjutsu and taijutsu and that was enough.

A sigh escaped his lips which then curved upwards into a smirk, his hand rose holding the carved piece of metal in front of amethyst eyes. A sliver of pride wriggling throughout his body as he continued to stare at the silver metal occasionally glinting in the sunlight. Lost in his own thoughts he heard nothing but his own footfalls on the cobblestone path.

"Hey freak, what was that shit about earlier?"

Hidan halted, dropping his arm and lifting his gaze upwards to see Takeshi. Takeshi was the leader of the five boys from earlier. The fact he had shown up to make Hidan aware of how hateful he was of the silver haired boy wasn't surprising, what was, was that he was alone.

Cocking his head and arching a narrow silver brow Hidan splayed the same arrogant smirk upon his supple lips he had tossed Takeshi's way earlier. "What shit?"

Takeshi's hazel eyes squinted, brows furrowing with irritation and slight disbelief. "Don't be so full of yourself freak. And stay the hell away from Hiroko; she's too good for someone like you."

At this Hidan T'ched, unfazed by the empty threat. He knew Takeshi had a thing for the blonde girl; most of the guys did really. In all honesty Hiroko was the prettiest out of the group of four and Takeshi tried anything and everything to get her attention. "Yeah right dip shit. I can see how fucking much she likes you, likes you enough to ignore you, a twelve year old, for me, a seven year old. Yeah she seriously loves you."

"Shut up Hidan, you have no idea the danger you're in."

"Heh, from you? Don't make me laugh asshole. You've been saying that shit for years and where's it fucking gotten you?"

Takeshi took a deep breath, calming himself and arching an eyebrow in Hidan's direction. Hazel eyes burning into outlandishly amused violet. He couldn't recall a time when he didn't believe there was something bizarre, amiss about Hidan. He always received a sense of wrong, some kind of wickedness all its own around him. It was just as frightening now, more so even, as it was when he was younger and he expected it only to get worse as time went.

He remembered the way he used to beat on the younger boy. He never cried, merely roared streams of expletives and violent death threats his way. He had refrained from raising a fist at the younger boy throughout the past year, the threats he used to laugh at now held some kind of malicious promise he was afraid to continue challenging.

He shook his head, calming and relaxing himself before speaking softly as if nothing Hidan said had offended him. "Just stay away from her Hidan. I don't want to have this talk again." Takeshi turned on his heels and attempting to walk away before being stopped by Hidan's somewhat sinister laughter.

"What, still not gonna beat the shit out me like you used to? Careful Takeshi, people might think you're getting soft." Hidan's quirky challenge surrounded him, drawing forth a tinge of regret when a picture of Hidan about a year younger lay on the ground, covered in grim and dripping blood.

Takeshi stopped and turned his head sideways, meeting those eerie purple irises. "Whatever you say Hidan, just don't forget what I said." With that Takeshi continued walking away from the silver haired boy. Everything about Hidan was odd, from his silver hair, to his violet eyes, to his personality. No one but him had those physical characteristics which started the rumor he'd heard since he was one about Hidan's mother having an affair. Whether she had or not wasn't his business but he couldn't help but be curious about something like that.

Takeshi sighed hoping Hidan would listen, after speaking with Hiroko it was obvious the only cooperation he had a chance of getting would only come from Hidan. Something inside him screamed that Hidan was hazardous to Hiroko and possible the whole village, but Hiroko would have none of it. What she saw in Hidan was completely and utterly unheard of to him and probably anyone else who knows him.

Hidan watched Takeshi's form disappear from sight; a small frown creased his lips. What the hell was that about? Takeshi wanted him to stay away from Hiroko, but didn't he realize he wasn't the problem? The problem was Hiroko, if it were up to Hidan she'd never be around him.

Shrugging he thought little more of the situation. Let Takeshi come back if he wanted to. Hidan was stronger now, much stronger and he knew for a fact Takeshi wasn't good at taijutsu, even though there was a time when he was younger he would have bet his life that would be Takeshi's specialty.

He huffed in disgust just thinking someone as weak as him used to best him in something he was particularly good at. Very good at as one of the exam teachers had told him before suggesting he begin practicing with weapons other that kunai and shuriken.

He shrugged, he'd think on it. If he was going to use a weapon he'd want something different, something that would show he had skill.

Resuming his walk home he passed by the park, a clear view of the sun starting to set spreading golden and orange steaks through a darkening sky. It was beautiful, something too beautiful to describe, something that needed to be seen to truly be appreciated. He stood in his place, gazing out at the horizon fascinated by the orange hues, dark reds, and bright yellows illuminating the streets and spreading over a dark blue black sky.

It was over too soon and the street lamps emitted their dull glow around the village. Crickets chirping within lavish emerald grass, animals retreating to their homes for the night.

Hidan turned left and walked down the street, his footsteps echoing in the poorly lit abandoned street. He always dreaded coming home. His family was as far from a family as you could get. His mother drank everyday and was normally past out by the time he got home and his father, well the only father he knew anyway, could barely stand to look at him. Hidan was the walking, breathing, living proof of his mother's betrayal.

In her drunken frenzies she would always say he was her curse. He took after the other man completely and from what she would say he was identical. He was a living curse sent to her as a constant reminder of her affair making her a guilt ridden mess.

Safe to say he wasn't loved much at home, but there were those tiny things that gave him a false sense of compassion. On several occasions he'd had to drag his mother to bed after she had become to drunk to walk on her own and his so called father would just step over her in complete disgust as she lay crumpled on the floor slurring her words and begging his forgiveness.

It were those times after he'd dragged her into her room, after he'd helped her into the bed, after he'd spread the blanket over her so she didn't get cold at night that her hand would reach out, the back of it grazing gently, slowly over his cheek before falling to the white sheet covered mattress as she finally slipped into sleep.

His hand rose, subconsciously touching his right cheek as the memory faded. Something so little used to mean the world to him. It was like her way of apologizing for her harsh words and cruel behavior, showing him that despite herself there was something in her that loved him. He used to think that anyway, now it's just thought of as a thank you, just something she could do in return for his kindness when his father wouldn't even look at her let alone help her.

Hidan walked up the porch steps stopping hesitantly at the top and staring at the door, he didn't want to go in but he knew he had to.

"You're late."

Hidan's head whipped to the side in shocked surprise. His father stood in the shadows leaning up against the house, arms crossed across his chest. Hidan couldn't tell if he was angry or not, never could really. His voice was as emotionless as his face but always deep and powerful nonetheless.

Though they had a rather strained relationship Hidan always felt his father liked him more than his mother did. He could go as far as to say he looked up to him in a way. He admired his power and his ability to stay completely emotionless even if he should be outraged or upset.

"What kept you?" His voice was deep and demanding of an answer. His silhouette remained still as he stood there. Hidan could feel his eyes burning into his own even though he couldn't see them.

"I Ran into Takeshi on the way back, he was bitching something about staying away from this girl in our class."

He shifted, uncrossed his arms and walked towards him till he stood in small stream of moonlight. Hidan could see the obvious displeasure in his green eyes. "Watch your mouth… I know the exams were today, I expect to hear you passed."

Hidan huffed in annoyance, putting on a tough front, but inside he was nervous and uneasy. His father never took an interest in him, whether it was his progress at the academy or the language he used. He could recall swearing in front of him several times and never receiving a curt warning like tonight.

He raised his hand holding the headband upwards so he could see the proof of his passing. "I passed."

His father's eyes closed as if in thought. "I see… go to bed, you'll need the rest."

His feet moved obediently to the door before walking inside, looking back to see his father step down from the porch off to do something. Probably off to have a word with Masahiko, they were close friends after all and he'd probably want to know just how well his 'son' did.

He shook his head and continued to his room, passing by his mother's not surprised to see her fast asleep. The smell of alcohol heavy in the air making him nauseous. Biting back the urge to throw up he went to his room, flinging his headband onto a small nightstand before flopping down on his bed. He was rather tired and tomorrow he'd be assigned to a team, a relatively easy day since they'd just be getting to know their teammates and sensei.

Yawning he closed his eyes and pulled a white comforter over his small frame, huddling into the blanket and getting comfortable he could just make out the sound of the front door closing before everything was silent once more.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Katsuo sighed shifting through a stack of papers all filled out, fingers still wrapped around a brush hovering over an inkwell dripping into a pool of liquid black. He set it down, cracked his neck and leaned back into his chair relaxing his stiff back.

Looking at his handiwork he released a breath of relief. It had taken hours to complete all the papers, much longer than normal and the reason for the delay lay sleeping peacefully curled up on his bed, a silver haired wolf hugged lovingly to her petite body.

It had only been an hour into the paperwork ordeal when he began to realize his mistake of agreeing to let her come with him. Hours on end of nothing but questions and a hyper little girl bouncing off the walls really put a damper on his already busy schedule.

Sepia eyes lingered on the tiny form, looking over juvenile features, her ruddy cheeks, and long black hair tinted blue. She seemed so content sleeping upon the azure blanket securely tucked to the mattress.

He stretched, capped the ink bottle, and stood. Katsuo sauntered to the side of his bed with careful footsteps, cautious not to wake her. Rukia was such a light sleeper sometimes the slightest noise would wake her. He learned that early on and was always precise in his movements around her whenever she slept.

Slowly, gently he eased an arm under her delicate form, lifting her with ease he held her close to his chest sparing a quick glance to make sure she was still asleep. Thankfully she was, eyes still closed her chest heaving periodically with her breaths.

He carried her slowly out the room and down the hall to her own, pushing the door open with his foot he made his inside and laid her on the bed pulling a white blanket over her body.

Leaning over her his lips brushed her forehead in a soft kiss before straightening and leaving her in peaceful silence. His hand gripping the door and pulled it shut save for a crack as he left. Retreating back to his own room he crawled beneath the covers, instantly falling asleep.

It seemed he had only just closed his eyes when he felt it, something tugging viciously at the blanket a small incoherent whine resounding in his ear. Groggy eyes opened to see his little sister standing at the side of his bed, blue covers clenched in her delicate fingers. He groaned glancing at the clock on the nightstand, 2:30 am. He looked at her tired and annoyed. "What Rukia?"

"I had a bad dream. Let me stay wit you."

Katsuo sighed reaching up and rubbing his forehead. "Rukia it's just a dream go back to bed."

"But nii-san it scary in there." Rukia's hands gave a determined tug on the blanket as she frowned up at him.

"Go to mom then." Katsuo leaned his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes, hoping the discussion was over.

"I don't wanna go to mommy. Daddy'll be mean ta me."

He sighed. She was defiantly winning now. "You promise to go right to sleep?"

"Uh huh."

"Fine." He raised his arm along with the blanket, immediately she climbed up cuddling into him. Sighing in slight annoyance he lowered his arm, draping it over her as she clung to him. Obviously he wasn't getting out of her death grip without a fight and currently he was too exhausted to try to pry her hands off his t-shirt.

He shook his head before laying back down, shutting his eyes for the finale time tonight. For a two year old she was pretty smart and he'd swear she could get just about anything she wanted.

He laid there, eyes closed until her breathing was slow and steady; till he was positive she was asleep before allowing himself to slip out of consciousness.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Hidan trudged through yet another puddle. The streets soaked from rainwater, the sun nonexistent in the dark sky, ominous gray clouds blotched over the once blue expanse. He kicked the water of a nearby puddle, sending a small shower of droplets to fall upon stones covered in an already existent clear liquid.

The weather outside was miserable, ironic in the fact that's how he felt. Something about the dreariness of the rain made he himself depressed as well.

Hidan stared down at his saddened expression reflected back in the clear pool. Half lidded eyes, lips pulled down into a scowl, brows relatively relaxed yet slightly scrunched up.

He huffed and kicked the small puddle, ripples deforming his reflection before he moved on to the academy.

Stepping into the all too familiar room relief flooded him in the knowledge it would be the last time he'd see the inside of this building. From here on he'd be a genin. He'd go on missions, he'd travel, he'd defeat enemies and become stronger, but he'd never have to step into this room again.

It wasn't the building, nor the room for that matter in which he held such a disgusted odium for, but the memories in which the place held. All unpleasant, each one more so then the next and everything within the room conjured up another.

He sat in his regular seat in the fourth row next to the window. The room was empty, quiet save for the periodic tap of water droplets pelting the glass beside him. He looked out watching the trees sway with liquid infested winds, eyes drooping he yawned feel tired all of a sudden.

Rainy days seemed to do that. Another reason he hated days like this. They made him feel drained and sluggish, like he could sleep the entire day.

Time passed as he stared out, breathing in the damp air from the ajar window. Most of his classmates had arrived but it was still unusually quiet. Everyone seemed to be whispering when they spoke, like something terrible may happen if the silence were broken.

Whispered voices, raindrops and the occasional gust of wind, the only sounds that seemed to exist anymore. No chirping from the birds, no chattering from the squirrels, no happy giggling voices of the younger children playing outside, the world seemed dead.

Death… an interesting aspect all in itself, to Hidan anyway. He was always curious about it. What was it like? What did it feel like to die? Did it feel different depending on what you were dying from? What goes through your mind during those last few crucial moments?

They were questions he so desperately wanted an answer for and yet he didn't care enough to die for the answer. He didn't want to die ever, the thought of no longer existing drug up a feeling of sheer panic and something foreign he didn't have a name for. He couldn't imagine himself dead, no longer existing.

"Alright guys grab a seat."

Hidan turned slowly at Masahiko's voice. Resting his head on his hand he stared off into space, not caring about the other teams merely waiting on his own.

Several names were read off, several teams constructed before his own name was called.

"Team 12: Hidan, Takeshi, and Hiroko."

Hidan's eyes widened in amusement, lips curled into a smile. He heard a small feminine cheer behind him and knew it was none other than Hiroko. He turned scanning the room, locating Takeshi he smiled broadly mouthing the word 'ironic' before turning back around, still grinning madly.

This was going to be fun.

______________________________________________________________________________________

**Author's note:** Well chapter 2 is done. Sorry about the wait, school work ya know?

Anyways I want to clarify a few things before I leave.

Like I said already I think Hidan is smarter than he's portrayed and I intend to work on that in later chapters. Also I'm not convinced, although said many time by himself that he'd like to, that Hidan wants to die. There are physical things that he does have led me to believe otherwise. If you watch for example the episode were his head is cut off he looks rather scared even though he knows he won't die, and I doubt he's afraid of the pain seeing as how he stabs himself in the heart.

Another thing is I think his immortality is permanent. I don't believe it's going to wear off if he doesn't kill anymore and I'll elaborate on this more in a later chapter. Don't wanna give too much away.

**Question time!** I know you just love this. lol

What do think of Rukia so far? I know she's only a child now and she's not as complex as she's going to get, but I like to think I made her seem cute.

I want to know how you guys feel about lemons. I've never written one before but I've come up with a rather good idea, I think anyway, but it would involve a lemon. So tell me how you guys feel about those. The majority wins.

Last thing isn't really a question I'd just like you to tell me how you like it so far.


	4. Teammates

**Author's Note: **This chapter is just about Hidan since I'm not sure when he'll be in the story next. Some foreshadowing though, so pay attention.

**Song's listened to writing this: **Had Enough- Breaking Benjamin, Open your heart- Madonna, & Right Before Your Eyes- Hoobastank.

**Shadow of the Moon**

**Teammates**

_**Remember upon the conduct of each **_

_**depends the fate of all. ~Alexander the Great**_

A group of three sat upon a park bench, flakes of varnish chipping from graying splintered wood weathered by harsh rains and sporadic snowfall. The surrounding vastness of foliage coated in a fine sheen of morning dew, glistening within the bright splays of sunlight occasionally peeking through gray clouds, a thin layer of moisture still hanging in the air gave the expanse a fogged over look.

Silence… stillness. No one spoke, just waited in the hush calm of early morning.

Moments passed slowly, Hidan's eyes drooped with fatigue as he sat hunched forward, head resting upon his hand, elbow digging uncomfortably into his thigh. A quiet yawn emanated from his lips, disturbing the quiet momentarily. He straightened, raising his arms above his head and arching forward, a small crack resounding as he sighed heavily, already annoyed with their new _teacher_.

He snorted irritably. _Late, miserable bastard better get here soon._

Teeth clenched tightly stifling another yawn, his bottom jaw vibrating with the pressure. His head tilted sideways, a satisfied wince escaping with yet another subtle crack.

Violet orbs shifted, looking discreetly through the corner of his eyes he smirked with obvious amusement at Takeshi's aggravated expression glaring callously in his direction.

Hidan nearly broke out in a full out vindictive smile and a fit of laughter, but he managed to refrain. His new hobby included doing anything and everything to annoy his new associate, and one thing that got under his skin more than anything was the cracking of his back and neck, for some unknown reason. Probably the sound it made.

A cool breeze blew past, rustling leaves and making his hair sway. He shivered, the cold wisps like fingers stroking over and chilling exposed skin. Darkening ashen clouds loomed overhead, foreshadowing an oncoming storm.

His head shook, cursing the rain in his mind as he reached into his pocket. The crinkling of a silver wrapper resulted in two pairs of eyes turning his way. Ignoring the two he pulled out one of two rectangular pastries, a cinnamon coating splayed over the top. Quickly he tore it down the middle; the appetizing sent became stronger as he eyed the dark brown layer of a cinnamon sugar mixture encased in a flaky crust.

He licked his top lip before taking a bite, savoring the sweetness. Wrapped up in enjoying his breakfast he hadn't noticed Hiroko inching closer to him. "Hidan-kun," her saccharine voice purred, hot and predatory in his ear, "can I have half?"

Thin eyebrows knitted together a throaty growl resounding around him, his displeasure dully noted as she shrank back somewhat, yet stared expectantly at him, waiting for something. He sighed louder than needed and passed the remnants of the package to her.

She took it, looked at it, then frowned in disappointment, "Wanna feed it to me Hidan-kun?"

Shocked silence filled the surrounding proximity. Lilac eyes widened in a traumatizing look, the perfect personification of the saying 'A deer caught in the headlights.'

Takeshi stared wide eyed at the honey blonde mouth agape in mix of astonishment and hidden jealousy.

That did it. Hidan stood and practically sprinted in a different direction, any direction. It didn't matter where as long as he was away from her. She had a lot of nerve asking him such a thing and it grew even bigger still as she followed after him for a distance, calling out for him to come back. Hell she even tried to justify her request of his return with the logical explanation that their teacher was coming. Like he gave a shit at the moment.

He t'ched, pushing air violently from his mouth making the noise as loud as he could hoping she'd hear him but knowing no such thing would happen. He was too far away for such a subtle sound and the loud yells reverberating behind him was a clear indication she was busy arguing with Takeshi. No doubt it was over her obvious misconduct.

If there was one thing he could thank Takeshi for it was pointing out that her flirtations were beyond uncomfortable for the party concerned. No doubt he hated Takeshi and vise versa but they both shared a common ground, they hated Hiroko's advances directed at him.

God, what was with that girl? He could stand to put up with her in the academy, but that was different. Very different. Eventually he would get to leave and he wouldn't have to be near her till the next day, but now it was all day every day. Hell. That's what this was, hell. That or prison. Either way he was miserable and she was ecstatic.

He could only pretend to stomach her for so long. The only reason he had in the first place was to make Takeshi and his little _gang_ jealous. So simple was it then, now he was beside himself cursing his, what seemed like a genius plan at the time. _How could I have been so fuckin stupid? Seriously? Was I that desperate for ideas back then?_

He stopped and kicked a tall group of overgrown grass. Water droplets sprayed from the lush green onto a patch of dry dirt, immediately soaking through the soil and disappearing. Sitting upon the grass he looked down at what was left of his breakfast.

His appetite was gone, replaced with revulsion and a twinge of nervousness, like he had to give a speech in front of the class or something. Eyes narrowed in confusion as his cheeks suddenly felt very hot, hands reached fingers splayed over the warm flesh. Blushing? Was he blushing? _What the fuck is wrong with m_e?

Irritated anger replaced every emotion and in a moment of lost self-control he picked up a stick next to him and threw it into a cluster of bushes. _What the hell? Blushing like some kind of pansy? I don't even like her, seriously._

Rustling bushes captured his attention; he stared at the thick foliage in front of him, dark razor-like leaves splotched with deep red berries, a holly bush. A large bird stepped out. At first he thought it was a crow, but no, it was much too big. A raven maybe?

The bird let out a low guttural rattle, staring intently at him. Its curved beak snapped as it made a few clicking noises and began to clean its black iridescent feathers.

Hidan cocked his head and arched a thin silver brow fascinated by the closeness of the large bird. He'd never gotten this close to a wild bird before. Weren't they supposed to be skittish? If he reached out he could touch the outstretched right wing, if he reached further he could stroke its head or the elongated bushy feathers at the base of its neck.

Its wing retracted and it shook its head several times fluffing up its feathers. Dark brown irises met his deep purple and it clicked.

"What? You hungry or something?"

The bird's head tilted sideways looking like a dog trying to understand its owner's command.

Hidan broke off a small piece of crust from one half of the pastry and tossed it. It landed at the bird's feet before it was snatched up and devoured quickly. Hidan hm'ed in interest and tossed another piece. That one to was quickly consumed.

It shook rustling its feathers and walked closer to him. Unsure Hidan scooted backwards trying to put distance between him and large ebony bird. It let out a dry grating _Kraa _before hopping up onto Hidan's calf and pecking lightly at the fabric of his pants.

Hidan stared at it not sure what to do. He pulled off more crust and laid it on the ground next to his leg hoping the bird would jump off him, it didn't. It snapped up the food but continued to use his leg as a perch, releasing an array of clicks and a deep resonant _prruk-prruk-prruk _call.

He raised a hand slowly, inching it towards the raven's head cautiously, afraid it may peck at him.

His fingertips stroked the glossy feathers of its head, soft and silky beneath his touch. He smiled as the bird continued to sit there, comfortable and secure upon his lap.

Minutes later the raven shifted and hopped down from his leg. Its wings outstretched and began to flutter; the bird soared up to a tree branch and perched upon it. Hidan stood brushing himself off; he looked up and gave the bird a small wave before turning and making his way back to the bench to wait for his teacher. As he walked the bird cawed after him as if saying good-bye, in fact he could have sworn that's exactly what it said.

The closer he got to where Takeshi and Hiroko were the louder their argument got. He rolled his eyes as he listened to Takeshi asking why she liked that 'freak' so much. No guess who he was talking about. Hidan was at the point now where insults didn't bother him anymore. He could just shrug them off and keep going, in fact he could laugh at some of the uncreative ones.

He almost did now actually. Someone needed to tell Takeshi the whole 'freak' thing was getting old and that it stopped bothering him years ago.

Hidan stopped next to the bench, five feet away his so called teammates were facing off and he sighed heavily. _How the hell am I gonna work with these fucking retards?_ Sitting down he stretched his legs out in front of him, Takeshi and Hiroko still oblivious to his presence continued there little confrontation. "Would you too shut the fuck up, seriously? I don't think they heard your stupid bullshit in Iwagakure yet."

Hiroko let out a yelp of surprise before a shriek of joy pierced his ears, disturbing probably the entire village. Her hands cupped under her chin and she stared intently at him, eyes twinkling with adoration. "Hidan-kun you came back."

She sat beside him, too close for comfort. He began sliding down the side of the bench, she followed and before he realized there was no longer any more room to move to, he fell, landing flat on his back staring up at the gray sky. His hand stung and something warm and wet was running down his palm.

Suddenly Hiroko's face popped up, obscuring his view and he grimaced. He was reaching his limit with her and quickly. "Hidan are you alright?" Her fingers laced around his arm as she began pulling on him trying to help him to his feet.

Hidan's eye twitched, ire bubbling. Finally he had enough. He sat up and smacked her hand away none to gently and glared at her. "For God sake woman leave me the fuck alone, damn."

Takeshi scoffed as if saying 'finally.' "Amen."

Hiroko's features twisted in sorrow, "Shut up Takeshi."

He looked at her irritated beyond belief, "Well damn Hiroko, he doesn't want you attached to his hip constantly. It's called space, jeez."

Hidan scoffed in an agreeable sort of way. "Seriosly."

"I think you're just jealous Takeshi." She turned her ochre eyes back on him; her sadness was quickly replaced with wide-eyed shock and concern as she shrieked. "Hidan you're bleeding."

Hidan's eyebrows crooked in disbelief. He raised his stinging hand; sure enough a trail of rich red ran from the center of his palm down his wrist where it veered off to the side. A jagged piece of wood was embedded within the milky skin whilst several small tears surrounded it, outlined in red but none bleeding.

He huffed, considering it less than a minor injury and thinking Hiroko's worry was overrated. He began to pull it out when a feminine hand latched onto his wrist ceasing his movements. "You should wait for Haruo-sensei Hidan-kun."

He snorted and pulled out of her grasp. "I don't need to wait for him."

"You know she does have a point. You wouldn't want to risk having that thing splinter anymore, especially under the skin."

"Who asked you're damn opinion?" Hidan growled up at the taller boy, glaring daggers at him.

"Like I need your approval to voice my opinion." Takeshi crossed his arms over his chest glaring back at him with equal intensity, "Stop being such a stubborn miserable ass Hidan. You're not always right you know."

Eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into a sneer as he stood from his place on the ground. He took Takeshi's comment as a challenge and he'd be damned if lost this time. "Never said I was jackass. Wanna talk about a stubborn miserable ass take a hard look in the mirror stupid prick.

"Feisty today aren't we?"

Hiroko and Takeshi spun towards the deep male voice, Hiroko blabbing about his wound and Takeshi apologizing. Hidan angled his neck only to glance at him and huffed. "You're late again. It's really starting to piss me off you know?"

Haruo rolled his amber eyes and gave him a stern look. "What am I going to do with you Hidan? I'm getting sick of your foul mouth. I don't want to hear anymore vulgarities, do you understand?"

"Yeah I fuckin understand… Doesn't mean I'm gonna listen though does it?" With that Hidan ripped the splinter of wood from his palm and threw it on the ground. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot say. Last I knew you weren't my damn father."

"No I'm not your father, but I am your teacher and because of that you are obliged to listen and obey my orders."

"T'ch, fuck that."

Haruo sighed heavily. There was no point in arguing with him. Hidan never listened to anything he said, never had never would. But he wasn't the first teacher to complain about his mouth and inability to cooperate, although he was the first to try to understand him. He still was really, but Hidan was rather closed-mouthed about most things which made the task all the more difficult.

He knew the swearing had begun as plea for attention, that part was obvious even if Hidan denied it. His inability to get along with boys his age wasn't difficult to figure out either. It's hard to treat someone kindly after being punched and beat into the dirt while being called everything but a child of god. He didn't blame the kid for being sore, but what his problem was with people that actually treated him decently was beyond his comprehension. He figured Hidan would come around eventually, on his own time and until then he'd be patient with him, but he wasn't going to lie the disrespectfulness was getting to him. He wasn't used to being talked back to, let alone swore at.

Haruo walked up to him and took his bleeding hand in his own. A green chakra surrounded both their hands; the wound began closing up slowly. He looked at Hidan's face hoping to see some kind of positive emotion, maybe a little gratefulness even, but his gaze remained elsewhere. Not concentrating on anything in particular, just avoiding him.

When he was finished he released his hold and Hidan immediately snatched his hand back rubbing at the freshly healed skin and where his hand had touched his. Hidan wasn't much for touching and whenever he was he acted as if the spot touched had been scorched with fire. Rubbing his flesh till it shown bright red, like he'd rather cut the skin off than continue to have it as part of his body… Yet another mystery to the already puzzling boy.

"Just keep the profanity down a bit, alright? Not for me but out of respect for Hiroko." Making a snap decision he went out on a limb and swept the boy's sliver stresses back.

Hidan went rigid for a mere instant. He looked up into his amber eyes and cocked a brow. "Know a way to make them stay back?"

Haruo smiled with mischievous interest. "If I did, you'd cut back on the language?"

Violet irises squinted into a dull defeated look that practically said 'you got me'. "Eh, I'll try if it'll make you that da- … happy."

He smiled victoriously and patted Hidan on the head proud of him for the smidgen of cooperation. "Good," he turned towards the other two, "alright guys we have an escort mission later today. Nothing exciting just going to a neighboring town, it'll take a few hour tops. We'll be leaving in about two hours so go get some things together."

Takeshi and Hiroko walked off towards home and as Hidan went to move a large hand grabbed the back of his collar. "You and I are going to the store."

Hidan's body pivoted so he could look at the man, not being able to actually turn in his current position. "Why the hell are we going to the store?"

"Well a deal's a deal is it not?"

He gave a confused look as he cocked his head to see better. Noticing this Haruo let go of his shirt and Hidan turned around completely. "What exactly is your plan?"

Haruo chuckled. "What? Don't you trust your teacher?"

Hidan raised an eyebrow clearly not seeing the funny side of the conversation. "Not as far as I can throw you and that's not far."

He winced in faux offense. "Now that's cold." He smacked him lightly on his upper back. "Come on, you'll see when we get there." He pulled him along before Hidan got the message that he was required to go and began keeping pace beside him.

"Fine, but this idea of yours better fuckin work."

"Now I thought we agreed no more swearing."

"Hey, I said I'd work on it. Can't just undo three years of habit in an instant, seriously."

"Yeah I guess that's true." Haruo laughed as he spoke, as if he should have known that all along and his scolding just moments ago sounded completely stupid, even to child of only seven years.

Seven years? Seemed like he should be older, much older. He acted far too grown up for his age and he began to wonder if the kid ever actually had time to be just that, a kid. Probably not. He knew his parents and what they were like. His father was descent, his mother wasn't. She thought she had people fooled but she didn't. Everyone in the village knew she drank and Hidan's step-father was embarrassed by the woman, though he never said so aloud it was clearly written on his face whenever someone mentioned his wife. He avoided any conversation about her and flat out refused to say anything after 'she's well' or 'she's doing fine.'

He gave him a lot of credit though. Not many men would opt to raise a child that wasn't his, especially one that was conceived while their spouse had an affair. The fact he stayed with her showed just how much he actually cared for the boy despite his cold demeanor. He hadn't blamed Hidan for one second, he put the blame exactly where it belonged which is more than most would. Thank God he stayed for the boy's sake. If he hadn't Hidan would probably have died before his 1st birthday. No, his mother barely had the right to call herself a mother at all.

Haruo stopped before a small convenient store and Hidan halted beside him. "Ah, this place should have it. Come on." Haruo opened the door and stood beside it, inviting Hidan in first he walked in after him. Hidan looked around with curious interest. "Never been here before, have you?"

"No… what are you looking for anyway?"

"I told you you'd see." Hidan followed behind him as he walked up and down isles scanning the shelves contents. He stopped every so often; searched and then resumed strolling through the store not finding whatever it was in that particular area. Finally he stopped in an isle shifting through the contents on a shelf holding hair care products. Hidan took the delay as a time to explore further down the isle. His arm outstretched as he walked, fingers running over the cold steel of the shelves and different bottles of cleaning supplies and spray cans.

Haruo picked up two different bottles, one in each hand he read the labels before deciding on the more expensive of the two. He set the other back in its place and grabbed a second bottle of his choice. He glanced down the isle seeing Hidan preoccupied with something of interest to him. Curiosity got the better of him and sauntered over to see exactly what it was.

Hidan was holding a brochure someone had tossed on the shelf advertising a new weapons store close by. "Whatcha got there Hidan?"

Hidan fidgeted as if embarrassed to be caught with it. "Nothing… just looking."

"Hmm… interested in using a weapon huh?"

"Well the exam teachers suggested I should." He tossed the pamphlet back on the shelf.

To Haruo he sounded a little down when he figured he'd be excited. To be told it was a good idea to start with weapons was really a compliment of someone's strength in this village compared to others and students aren't normally told that until they're a chunin. The Hot Springs Village didn't exactly see much action in the battlefield anymore because of the leader's work for peace, so the training curriculum for the academy students had slacked the last few years. Apparently they didn't think there was any need to train them to their full potential. They didn't think they'd need shinobi anymore in a couple years maybe a little longer, so why waist money right?

"You seem a little down. One would think you'd be happy about such a thing." Haruo probed trying to see if Hidan would give him some kind of information.

"Why be happy about something that won't happen?"

"Why say that?"

"Like my parents have the money for something like that."

"Well you know… there's no harm in looking. That is if you're interested." Haruo laid the offer on the table and Hidan's eyes seemed to sparkle a bit.

"Seriously? You'd take me?"

"Sure why not? We aren't leaving for over an hour and you aren't doing anything anyways, now are you?"

"No."

"Alright it's settled then. Let me pay for this and we'll head over." He reached out and ruffled the silky silver strands and for the first time Hidan didn't mind, in fact he smiled.

Haruo was surprised at first, but smiled all the same as he led Hidan to the front counter and purchasing his merchandise. They walked outside together and like before Haruo let Hidan go first. He passed the bag over and gave him a small smirk. "Here ya go. That should hold your hair back."

Hidan reached inside and pulled out a bottle of clear gel. "Hair gel?"

"Yeah, just put some in your hair and slick it back. Not difficult."

He placed it back inside and closed the bag. Haruo began walking and he followed excitedly.

Haruo led the way inside the relatively large shop, a small bell above the door chimed signaling their entry and a man behind the front counter gave them a wave and a polite greeting.

Haruo nudged Hidan telling him to take a look around while he picked up a few of the necessities and he'd find him in a minute.

Hidan sauntered through the store, bypassing the kunai and shuriken section and going straight for the bigger and less common selection. He'd never seen so many weapons at one time. Some interesting and some strange, his eyes scanned over them.

Swords clustered together in the start of the isle and as he moved down they changed into tsukubō and sodegarami. Pole weapons made of sturdy wood, reinforced with iron around 2 meters in length. Barbs and spikes ran halfway down the pole and over the T-shaped head, one of the more interesting weapons.

He passed a group of sai, daggers, nagamaki, and kama. None really grabbing his attention. He turned the corner and stopped. He cocked his head and stepped foraward. Hanging on the wall was a long metal snaith with a large curved blade at the top. Three others littered the wall next to it all having a single blade but all different in color. The silver one bearing a red blade stood out the most to him. He reached out and touched the alizarian blade, fingers gentaly stroked the cold steel with fasinated adoration.

"Find something you like huh?"

Hidan smiled the scythe reflected in violet orbs. "Yeah."

Haruo watched Hidan's features twist in joyful fascination, watched the delicate hand run over the blade before it fell to his side and he turned to him. "Did you get what you needed?"

Haruo shifted the packages under his arm to a more comfortable position. "Yeah," he reached out and picked the scythe off its hanger and held it up, "you really like this huh?" He bounced it a bit testing its weight. It was surprisingly light for its size. It must have been made out of some kind of light metal, made sense really.

Hidan stared up at him somewhat confused and a little defensive. He seemed to think his teacher considered him weird for liking such a thing. "Yeah… so what?"

Haruo arched a brow at him. "It wasn't an insult Hidan. Here, see if you can handle its weight."

Hidan took hold of the snaith hesitantly; worried it may be too heavy for him but was surprised by the lightness of it. He shifted it switching hands and turning it around in his grip, getting a feel for it.

Haruo watched him closely with attentiveness. With a little training he could be pretty good. He had the interest and the drive what he lacked was the weapon. Unlike the villagers he was against stifling the students' talents and Hidan was a very promising student, despite his… uniqueness. He looked down at his watch, one hour to go. He smirked with an idea and took the scythe back from Hidan. "Why don't you wait for me outside. I have one more thing to do."

Hidan shrugged, "Alright."

Haruo watched him walk out the door before signaling the owner to come over, which he immediately did seeing the possibility of another sale. After a moments descussion Haruo purchased a brand new scythe at a very low price as a favor from the owner. He had the man keep it in back for him in agreement that he'd be back for it later.

He walked out to find Hidan waiting for him as agreed upon, an unsure look on his face as rubbed the back of his neck. "So… yeah, thanks for taking me here… and for the gel." He held up the bag momentarily.

The older man smiled at him, finding the boy had no experience in thanking anyone he chuckled. "Don't worry about it." He brushed past him giving him a pat on the head. "I suggest you get ready, we'll be leaving soon." He called over his shoulder and Hidan nodded.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Hidan stepped onto the porch, hand gripping the doorknob tighter than required he turned it and pushed the door open. He always became irritated and nervious as soon as he stepped foot on the property. He knew if his mother hadn't passed out she'd be waiting for him, ready to start a fight or call him something unholy as soon as she spotted him. Like a tiger, the first sign of weakness and she pounced. Her words cut deeper than anyone elses and despite her cruelty towards him he loved her even if sometimes he thought otherwise.

He tiptoed around the kitchen trying not to make any noise, but luck was not on his side and the floor creaked horribly loud.

He heard someone shift in the next room, light footsteps gave away the peron's identity. An auburn haired woman stumbled into the kitchen, green eyes shown disappointment and disgust as she gazed at her son. "What are you doing home?"

Hidan's eyes squinted in offense; her tone was harsh as her words were spat at him. He was used to it though; it had been this way since he could remember.

Not being in the mood to deal with her now he chose to ignore her query and began walking. As he went to move past her her hand shot out, gripping him by the upper arm she pulled him making him stumble and falter as she drug him back into the kitchen to stand before her. "Did you not here me? Why are you here?"

His hand latched onto her wrist trying to pull it from his arm. Her grip was tight and he could feel his skin begin to bruise underneath. He glared at her and growled, "Get off."

Then it happened, so suddenly and unexpected. Her hand rose before swiftly snapping sideways. His head was forced to the side and his cheek stung horribly. His right eye watered, liquid brimming at the bottom and glossing over the violet ring.

He didn't move. Just stood there wide-eyed with parted lips, completely stunned. He couldn't concentrate on anything except the periodic throb in his cheek. His lip became wet in the corner and liquid seeped out, running slowly down his chin tickling as it went. Warm metallic tasting fluid merged with saliva and flooded over his tongue.

His whole world seemed to stand still as everything seemed to go in slow motion. It no longer seemed real and for a moment he thought it didn't happen, like he had dreamt it.

He was brought out of his stupor as he felt her hand shove him violently, her other released his upper arm and he fell backwards. His legs and arms moved quickly on instinct doing everything they could trying to catch some balance before he hit the floor but awareness had come too late and his reaction time could not compensate for it, and so he fall smacking the white tile hard.

Ankle twisted in an uncomfortable position, a splitting pain surged through his body and his head ached something terrible. He hoisted himself up till he was on his hands and knees. Something snapped in him and his teeth gritted, grinding against each other as he tried to force down the enraged urge to stand and smack the woman as hard as he possibly could.

He watched droplets of blood hit the tile, red contrasting white. Shifting he looked up at the light eyed woman. Her eyes were glazed over with drink but it didn't hinder the aggressive hatred burning in her eyes. His own widened, his body shook as his stomach churned in a frenzy of emotion.

Her harshness wasn't particularly new but the degree of it was. She never looked at him with that kind of hatred and she had never lifted a hand to him before. _What the hell is going on?_

Neither spoke. They just stared at each other, eyes locked on each others. Violet, terrified and shocked, green, hatful and vindictive.

It was then it registered in his mind. Fear… he was scared. Scared of her, of his own mother.

She shifted and he went ridged.

She walked towards him and he moved away.

She stopped before the counter and looked back at him. He was now on his feet and had already moved to the other side of the room. "I've always hated you," she sounded sinister, even with her words slurred.

He didn't respond. He didn't know how to, so he just stared, watching waiting.

"I never loved you… I wish I'd never given birth to you… You're a curse on me for my sin," he watched her hand reach out. Her fingers ran along the counter top before wrapping around a black handle. She lifted it; a long silver blade reflected his blood stained and horrified features. She took a single step forward, eyes fixated intently upon the small form of her son. "I won't let you punish me anymore."

She came at him slowly. He remained rooted to his spot unable to move. Adrenaline rushed to his legs providing the power he needed to flee, his body trembled begging him to run. His heart began hammering in his chest as his breathing accelerated drastically.

He stepped back as she moved closer until his back hit the wall. His skin prickled in fear the closer she got to him.

Suddenly a hand grabbed his forearm and yanked. Before he knew what was going on he was staring at a man's back. His fingers clutched desperately at the green fabric of a flak jacket afraid the man wasn't real or that he may leave, leave him here with her. But he was real. He didn't know who it was at the moment, frankly he didn't care, all he knew was that he was real and he was safe. He leaned forward resting his forehead on his back as he thanked every god he'd ever heard of.

"What the fuck are you doing Aya?"

Hidan gasped and his eyes widened. _Father?_

There was a clatter as the knife hit the floor and choked sobs enveloped the small room. "Why? Why are you protecting him Mamoru? He's not ours."

He growled callously at her. "No he's not ours, he's mine. If I ever catch you attempting anything like this again I'll kill you myself, so you best just stay away from my son."

"He's not yours!" Her sorrowful voice shouted. Hidan clutched his father's vest tighter. He didn't want his father to decide she was right and hand him over to her.

Mamoru glared at her and she quieted instantly out of fear. "I've taken care of him since the day he was born while you drank all day until you couldn't function. As far as I'm concerned he's more my son than he is yours," he reached behind him and took Hidan's tiny hand into his own rough large one, guiding him out from behind his back till he stood beside him. "This discussion is over and you'll do well to remember what I told you."

Mamoru draped an arm around Hidan's shoulders protectively and led him around his mother and into the bathroom. He picked up the small boy and sat him on the counter, picking up a washcloth he wet it down and began wiping the blood from his face. "Are you alright?"

Hidan didn't say anything. He was still too frightened to speak, his throat was dry and his mouth felt like cotton so he shook his head yes. Though his body was still throbbing he felt it was better than being dead.

Hidan's father continued to wipe up the blood from his face. He seemed to notice Hidan having a hard time swallowing since he filled up a small cup by the sink and handed it to him, stopping cleaning him up long enough for him to drink it. "I ran into Haruo earlier and I'm aware you have a mission soon. I'll call you off if you're not up to going."

Though grateful for the offer he shook his head. He wasn't feeling up to a mission what so ever but he wanted to get out the house more than anything right now, and besides Haruo had said it was going to be easy. "No… I want to go."

"Alright then," there was a pause as he began inspecting Hidan's arm. As he suspected there was a small blotch of purple forming over the skin and would only get darker over the next day. "Haruo tells me he took you to look at weapons today… How was it?"

He fidgeted a little and began twiddling his thumbs, lacing his fingers. "It was good."

"You find something you like?"

"Well… I liked this scythe but it's expensive so…"

Mamoru hid a smile. He already knew all about it from Haruo and had agreed to pay him back when his wife brought over the weapon while they were on their mission. Wouldn't want Hidan to see his present too soon after all. It was a rather belated birthday gift since he couldn't really afford to get him anything special two months ago, what with the bills and feeding his wife's habit. They'd be a hell of a lot better off financially if Aya would stop her damn drinking, but that wouldn't happen. It was an addiction by now.

He sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge off his nose. After a moment he looked up into his son's lilac eyes with a serious yet apologetic kind of look. "I'm sorry Hidan. I haven't been the best father. I should take you out of this house but legally you aren't my son… Your mother is the only one with the right to custody over you and I obviously can't leave you here alone with her… From now on take anything you might need for missions with you and don't come back here till you know I'm home, understand?"

Hidan sighed and looked down, a million thoughts running through his mind at once. "I will."

"Good… You should get your stuff ready, and be careful. Stay with Haruo."

"Alright." He hopped down and went to his room. He pushed the door closed, leaned against it, and slid down slowly till he sat upon the floor breathing a sigh of relief and sadness. Loud shouts came from the living room as his parents began fighting again. His head shook. He couldn't get his mother's words out of his head… and that look. That horrible look on her face as she came at him with the kitchen knife.

Salty water dripped onto his pants, tears clouded his vision and his throat felt full of mucus making it hard to swallow. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, tears streaming down his face, but he was pulled back into reality by a knock at his door and his father's voice calling in to ask if he was ready and telling him he need to be at the village gates in less than 10 minutes.

He managed to choke out an 'ok' before he hopped to his feet and began throwing some things into a bag, kunai and shuriken mostly along with some medical supplies and a change of clothes just in case his should get torn or covered with blood. He wiped his cheeks with his sleeve several times. Takeshi would never let him live it down if he knew Hidan had been crying. He winced as he hit a small cut on his cheek he wasn't aware he had. How was he going to explain that one? Well he did have a lot of enemies. One of Takeshi's friends could have done it easily.

He picked up his headband. Normally he tied it on his right upper arm but the bruise forming there wouldn't make it very comfortable.

He jumped as an image of his mother with a butcher knife flashed in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut as the tears stung at them again threatening to spill over. He shook his head. This wasn't going to go away over night. He knew that.

His eyes opened as an idea surfaced in his head. Though it wasn't a very pleasant thought he figured his mother would have cut his throat had his father not interrupted them. His throat. Fingers reached up and he stroked the pale vulnerable flesh rubbing his fingertips over his pulse points.

Hidan wrapped the headband around his throat before tying it into a tight knot. Satisfied with everything he had he turned toward the door to leave, but stopped. At the foot of his door was a white plastic bag. His father must have set it there while he was busy getting things together.

Walking over he picked it up and dumped the contents on his bed. An eyebrow arched and he was filled with curiosity. Picking up a bottle he scanned the back reading over the instructions, looking basically for how much he should use.

Squirting out a gob into his palm he spread it over both hands before running them through his hair sweeping it back. He put in a bit more before picking up a comb making sure the gel was distributed all the way through. Not having a mirror in his room he didn't know how it looked but his hair was back and out of the way and that's really all he cared about.

When he was satisfied once more he picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and practically sprinted out of the house, avoiding his mother at all costs. He didn't even want to accidentally glance at her for fear of setting her off again and simply because he didn't even want to look at her right now.

He jogged through the streets making it to the village gates just in time. He stopped and bent forward, hands on his knees he panted hard.

"Well I told you that gel would work. You ready to go there Hidan?"

He stood up strait and nodded. His breathing was somewhat normal now but still came in small pants here and there.

"Oh Hidan-kun your hair looks so cute slicked back." Hiroko stood beside him and stretched out her hand in an attempt to touch the silver strands.

Hidan's eyes widened and he jerked away. He knew it was Hiroko reaching out to him but all he saw was his mother slashing at him with a knife.

"Hidan-kun what is it? You're so pale." Her concerned voice shattered the image and he stared at her. He couldn't think of anything to say, couldn't think of a justification for his little hallucination. "Hidan?"

"… I'm fine." He lied, and she knew. He could tell by her frown and disbelieving eyes. He only prayed she didn't push the matter.

"Well let's get moving shall we?" Haruo started walking out of the village, a woman followed, obviously the woman they were to protect.

Takeshi began following after them before he threw an irritated glace back at him. "About time you showed up Hidan. I thought you were going to chicken out."

Hidan glared something deadly at him fed up with Takeshi's smart ass attitude. He was already on the edge and he really wasn't in the mood for him. Takeshi's face twisted in shock for a moment. "You wish… Don't fuck with me bastard I'm not in the fucking mood."

Takeshi turned to face forward and practically sprinted up to Haruo. He scoffed, _coward_.

Hidan started walking keeping a distance from them. He liked to lag behind a bit.

He frowned as he caught a glimpse of Hiroko next to him her gaze was locked on him and she looked uneasy. She cleared her throat as she thought he didn't know she was there. He never turned to face her just kept walking. He didn't want to see her right now. "Um, Hidan-kun? … Are you ok?"

"I said I'm fine." He replied with a dull voice laced with annoyance, hoping she's leave him be.

"But the way you looked at me back there, you really scared me… And your cheek is cut. What happened?"

"None of fucking business."

"But Hidan, if you're upset about something I did, I'd like to know."

"It's nothing you did, now leave me alone." Hidan glared out of the corner of his eyes and she shrank back.

"… Hidan if you want to talk abou-"

Hidan had enough of her prying and he turned to her. What was the difference between Hiroko and his mother? Right now he couldn't see any and all anger was directed at her. "For fuck sake what the hell is wrong with you women. You're all alike every damn one of you. When I say leave me the fuck alone I mean it god-damn it."

All eyes were on him and Hiroko looked sadder than ever, eyes downcast as she muttered an apology. Everyone had stopped walking, all except for him and he passed up everyone who followed him with their eyes.

Takeshi was rather uneasy about Hidan's current attitude and Haruo knew something had happened at the house and wasn't about to get on the boy right now. Mamoru had called and told him Hidan may be a little late but not to worry. He had pressed for more information but Mamoru remained silent about it.

Kasumi, the woman they were protecting, must have had a death wish. She was a rich noble girl who wasn't shy about expressing her opinions; something all parties concerned wished wasn't the case. "What's his problem? Little foul mouthed brat you have in my opinion."

Hidan halted instantly. His teacher covered his face as if saying 'oh no' and Takeshi and Hiroko stared worried and nervous at the older woman. "What was that bitch?"

She huffed in offense. "What manners you have speaking to a lady like that."

Hidan turned with a malicious sneer on his face and a sinister twinkle in his eyes. Takeshi sucked in a breath. He knew that look better than anyone here and the last time he received it Hidan had actually pulled a kunai on him. That was a little less than 3 months ago and he had the scar on his leg to prove it. "What lady? All I see is some stuck up rich bitch pretending she knows me. Why don't you shut your fucking trap before I slice your god-damn throat open? No one here gives a shit about you 'opinion'." For added effect Hidan pulled out a kunai and held it up so she could see it. "You wanna fuck with me just keep on talking," he gave her an amused and deadly smile, "Cus I know I'll enjoy it."

The woman looked positively terrified and offended at the same time, but she remained quiet as Hidan resumed walking, placing the kunai back in its place.

They all began walking again and within 5 minutes Hidan had taken his place at the back of the group. This time he was alone, not even Hiroko wanted to walk next to him.

Kasumi leaned over to Haruo whispering so Hidan didn't hear, "What's his problem with women?"

Haruo cocked a brow confused, "What do you mean? He's like that with everyone."

She huffed quietly, "Don't play. He hates women, why?"

Haruo continued to stare at her like she had two heads, "Really I don't know what you're talking about. He's like that with everyone. Not normally quite as bad, but he really doesn't hate women more than men."

Kasumi looked unimpressed and disbelieving, "Trust me on this one, your student there hates women. Don't tell me you didn't notice the looks he gave me and the little girl over there. Plus the way he spoke if the looks weren't enough. I've been around men like that my whole life so believe me when I say it'll only get worse." With that she walked faster and caught up with Hiroko.

The two began talking and giggling about something and Haruo thought intently about what she said, mulling it over. He sighed, she could be right but then again she could be wrong. Though Hidan's rather aggressive behavior towards the female sex was wavering his decision more to the first possibility. He glanced at Hidan, _what happened today?_

About two hours into the walk they were just before the village, another good 20 minutes and they'd be there. Four out the five were socializing and seemingly having a good time, but not Hidan. He felt strange every time he looked at Hiroko and that stupid ass bitch that thought she knew everything, and it wasn't a good feeling. It wasn't even annoyance anymore. More like some kind of combination between despise and disgust. He sighed trying not to think about it anymore. _That experience earlier is really fucking with my mind._

Suddenly a kunai landed about 2 feet in front of him and everyone stopped. Takeshi quickly jumped in front of the woman and pulled out a knife. Haruo and Hiroko took out two knives each and stood on opposite sides of her.

Hidan could care less about the woman. He pulled out a knife and took a fighting stance away from the others despite his teacher's call for him to get closer. He scoffed and stayed where he was. He didn't care if the woman died or not and she had enough protection already.

Three ninja jumped down from the trees and stood around them, all from Sound Village. Hidan almost laughed. He thought they looked pretty gay with the stupid purple bow around their waist.

One of them smiled, "Hand over the girl and no one gets hurt."

Haruo huffed, "I don't think so." He threw a group of shuriken and the three dodged.

The ninja split up and went after them separately.

One of the ninja jumped in front of him and laughed, "Pretty young aren't you kid?"

Hidan growled, "Fuck you prick."

They each jumped towards each other. The kunai clashed together over and over. Hidan was being forced back, unable to gain an upper hand but doing well enough to block and dodge his attacks.

The sound ninja forced him into a clearing in the woods behind him. With his team out of sight Hidan was getting a little uneasy.

"What's wrong kid? Scared?"

"Tch, you wish fucker."

"You have such a colorful vocabulary… Sorry kid. This was fun and all but I'm sick of playing around. I'm not holding back anymore."

Before he could respond a splitting pain ran up his side and he was lying on the ground. The man walked over and kicked him hard in the side, a sickening snap resounding through the air as ribs snapped like twigs. He winced refusing to scream. He pulled out some shuriken and threw it, disappointed when he hit nothing but trees. His anger was spiking and as he stood a fist connected with his face, blood splattering from his mouth.

He stumbled sideways, a fist landing a punch in his stomach making him double over.

He wasn't fast enough. He wasn't strong enough for this guy.

Hidan took a series of more blows, the last kick sending him smashing into a tree. He sat with his back against it, supporting him in an upright position.

"Too bad kid. You seemed pretty determined when we began."

A plot began to form in his head and Hidan sat there, blood trickling from cuts and scrapes across his body. His breathing was ragged due to the broken ribs sending shockwaves of pain throughout his abdomen whenever he breathed too deeply.

The man stood before him once more hitting him hard in the back of the head sending him face first to the ground. Hidan laid there as the sound ninja dug his heel into Hidan's back. He winced and gasped at the pressure pushing his aching rib cage into the ground.

Discreetly his hand wandered closer to his pocket. His fingertips touched the handle of a kunai. He hissed again as the heel twisted from side to side causing an array of agony to radiate through him.

An ear piercing scream was heard were his team was fighting and the ninja with him turned towards the sound. He was in the middle of a cocky comment when Hidan ripped the kunai from his pocket and drove it into the man's stomach.

His words turned into a grunt and Hidan twisted the weapon tearing the flesh and hitting organs. The man fell to his knees clutching the wound and Hidan pulled out yet another kunai. He punched the man in the face before kicking him. Though his attacks weren't as strong they achieved his goal of getting the man to lie on his stomach.

He knelt beside the sound ninja and planted a hand firmly on his head, pushing it into the dirt. He chuckled and the ninja frowned going rigid. "Nice try bastard."

Hidan tilted the man's head so he was facing sideways. Holding the knife between his thumb and forefinger he let it dangle in the man's face, taunting him. He waved it from side to side sadistically as the man tried to escape his grip. Hidan smiled at him and the man's face fell. He looked at him horrified and bewildered. "How the hell could you beat me?"

Hidan's smile grew, "Because you're a cocky bastard."

He twirled the knife in his hand readying it to strike; the man's attempts to get free were weak and pathetic compared to earlier. "Don't kill me, please."

Hidan stopped his movements and frowned, "Why shouldn't I, when you were so ready to kill me?"

"Because you're better than me… please don't."

Hidan tilted his head as if thinking the situation over. The man seemed to relax a bit and Hidan chuckled smiling. "Nope, I'm just as bad as you." His hand rose, the blade sank, and a thick gurgle reached his ears as the man began choking on his own blood, a knife sticking out of his neck pinning him to the ground. "Too bad huh?"

The man couldn't speak and his vision was going quickly, he was dying fast.

Hidan watched the pool of scarlet grow and light of life dim in his eyes until it ceased completely, his reflection still visible within the chocolate orbs. Violet eyes set in pale skin, a thin mouth and slicked back silver hair in a widow's peak. His hair didn't look bad actually. He liked it slicked back like this. He reached up and smoothed down some strands that came undone, the blood he could do without though. It would look better if he wasn't as young as he was, but he figured he grow into it.

He stood from his kneeled position, paying no mind to the ache in his side he walked back to his team with proud strides. It was the first time he killed a man and the guy was far more skilled than himself. Why shouldn't he be proud? He smiled as he reached the group that happened to all regrouping at the moment.

Hiroko of course was the first to notice him and start shrieking out that he was hurt. Like he didn't know that. He stopped before Takeshi who looked no better than he did. He looked down at him and smirked. Takeshi looked up at his blood covered teammate in confusion. "What?"

Hidan's smirk grew into a smile, his hand raised and rested on his neck before he tilted it and loud crack reached his ears. Takeshi shuddered disgusted by the noise and glared up at him. "So where's the other guy? He get away?"

He was completely caught off guard by Hidan's sinister laugh. "Yeah right. Bustard's dead."

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Hidan walked into his room bandaged and dripping wet from his shower. It was late night and he was more than ready for bed.

He yawned and cleared off the mattress of the bottles of hair gel and clothes. He pulled back the comforter and was getting ready to climb in when a tapping caught his attention.

He made his way over to the window and opened it, on the window sill stood a large black raven and he cocked his head. "Don't tell me you came here for more food."

The bird cawed and shook its head. He reached out and stroked the bird's back. It clicked and hopped up into his hand. He lifted it up and into his bedroom, the moonlight splayed over the glossy feathers tinting the black with a deep blue.

He stroked the silky feathers again finding them to look relatively nice with the deep tinge.

He held the bird up so he could see its face. "You didn't come all this way just to see me did ya?"

The raven clicked and snapped its beak. Its wings outstretched and it jumped from his hand soaring over to the other side of the room it perched upon something in the corner.

Weird… he couldn't remember having anything in the corner of his room. Walking over to the light switch he flicked it on and turned. In the front right corner of his room the ebony raven stood perched upon a crimson blade, the scythe he saw earlier. The bird's head lowered and pecked at a piece of paper before jumping down and onto the floor.

Hidan walked across the hardwood floor and pulled the taped note from the silver metal. A simple note telling him it was an overdue birthday gift from his father.

He smiled brightly in happiness and picked it up. He sat on the edge of the bed and shifted the cold steel in his hands. He turned at a small thump. The raven stood back on the window sill and cawed before flying off into the darkness.

He placed the scythe back in the corner and walked to the window. He spotted the bird in a tree next to his window. Giving it a small wave he shut the window and crawled into bed.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

**Author's Note: **Wow that was long. It took forever so I hope you like it. Again it was just about Hidan cus I'm not sure when he'll be back. I wanna concentrate on Rukia for a while but I might add a little update on him so don't get depressed. Also I haven't forgotten about Deidara or anything he's just going to have a rather long part coming up later and if my calculations are correct he's about 5 right now. Don't really have any questions this time except of course the obvious: How'd you like it? Oh and sorry the fight scene isn't very detailed or anything epic. My later ones will be better it's just he's only 7 right now so he has a lot left to learn. Well see ya guys.

~Snowy


	5. Deviation

**Shadow of the Moon**

**Deviation**

_**If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it. ~Mary Engelbreit**_

Rukia swerved for the twelfth time within the past twenty minutes, avoiding to the best of her ability, the broad hand of her father. For the past 3 months Renzo had trained her in the art of taijutsu, rather thoroughly actually, and in a persistency that left her utterly exhausted and achy by the time it was over. Training had almost become akin to a religion for the both of them, especially Renzo. All day long she found herself in the confines of the all too familiar training room, practically despising every moment of it regardless of the fact that it was her desire to be a ninja that resulted in her predicament.

Mats lined in neat and perfect rows covered half of the hardwood flooring. The other side contained three armoires, each hand painted with different designs from cherry blossoms to birds to kanji. Any place not covered with the all too perfectly assembled blue layers of foam stuffed fabric, that in truth wasn't any better protection from the solidity resistance of floorboards than a blanket, were for practicing kendo or shuriken throwing. Though there was a great assortment of targets lined on the wall there was also a great amount of light splotches were fresh layers of paint coated over the cracks and putty filled holes from numerous mistakes made over the past couple years.

Normally one would think that they would just repaint the entire wall, but as Renzo liked to throw in her face on a daily bases, "When and if you ever get to that point, I'm not going out of my way to repaint a room you'll just destroy with your mediocre skills."

According to her father her talent was less than adequate. She could say the comment didn't bother her, but it would taste a lie to tell herself she wasn't affected by it. But when she examined it from different angles, wasn't that true with just about everyone? How often do people hear about someone speaking ill of them and shrug it off with 'I don't care' when really the only thing they can think of is either 'why would they say that?' or better yet 'how could they say that?' Yes, she was hurt. Whoever said 'words don't hurt' obviously doesn't know what real hurt is.

To Rukia, her father's words hurt more than any punch or kick he could dish out in there little training sessions, and he was by no means gentle about anything. As he always says "Enemies won't go easy on you and neither will I." He said that a lot, but his actions occasionally contradicted his words. As there were times she would catch him being easy on her.

It wasn't often, and maybe that was why it meant so much. Those were the nights, somewhere between when her mother tucked her in and the time she awoke from that chilling dream and crawled in bed with her brother, she would lay awake. Just staring up at the blotted whiteness of the ceiling paint shaped into the design of what she thought looked like flowers circling each other thinking and sometimes before she finally succumbed to exhaustion, a smile would grace her lips, if only for a moment.

But still, she never understood her father. She wanted his approval just like any child would. Like her brother does, or used to. He would tell her, when she came to him with eyes full of tears and incoherent murmurs of why, she'd get over it. That the day would come when she'd no longer care what he said. That that would be the day she'd no longer hang onto his every word.

He always looked like he had something more to say. Like he wanted to confide something in her. Some kind of secret that only he knew. It happened the same way every time. He'd offer comforting words and an occasional hug if she seemed to really be in need of the loving gesture, then he would stare at her for a time, like his mind was debating the pro's and con's of letting her in on that little bit of knowledge.

Always did he recline in his desk chair like the boss of a company at a desk meeting about to invest his money and needing to know every little detail before hand, all the while staying completely silent. That's what he looked like… well that's what she guessed he looked like. And every time he would judge her inadequate of that knowledge and shoo her away to finish his work.

She'd release a bated breath as she closed the door behind her. With his paperwork and missions and her training there was rarely any time left in the day for the two of them to have fun like they used to.

Now here she was. Back at the training room panting and sweating as she tried her best to gain some kind of respect, invoke a smidgen of pride from her own father. He was merciless in his assault and she did everything she could to block and avoid him, though that was easier said then done.

He threw a punch her way, slow compared to his usual speed, and she sidestepped to the left. That simple step quickly turned into a mistake on her part as a strong well-trained foot plowed into her calf and she doubled back wincing as tears sprang to her eyes. She held up her arms and crossed them in self-defense when she noticed another closed fist rapidly approaching.

Her teeth clenched tightly and a hiss erupted as the air forced its way out her lungs and slithered out between the enamel. Her arm stung something horrible and for a second she panicked that it might be broken, but that was doubtful. She could still feel and move it after all and there was no tell tale crack when his blow connected.

Peeking out between crossed arms she could see him standing there, arms crossed around his torso and a displeased look plastered on his face. He was clearly not impressed and obviously waiting for her to regain composure.

Renzo gave a heavy sigh of disheartened frustration. He had expected some kind of improvement in his daughter's abilities by now, but she wasn't much better off then when they started. Maybe it was his fault for expecting too much. Maybe it was that he was being to rough on her. Well it didn't matter, he didn't care either way. He was utterly determined to improve her adeptness, the challenge just added to the appeal. "Try again."

A few gibbering words and a shift of stance later she was standing a few feet away trying to perceive all, if any, movements from him. Her gaze swept over him in careful observation, lingering momentarily on his feet exactly as he taught her. All her training so far was hand to hand combat and would stay so till her father deemed her worthy enough to learn jutsu, so she wasn't bothering to watch his hands for any signs.

Seconds later she was blocking a rather strong and forceful punch directed at her side. Thankfully she managed to move an arm in the way fast enough, but sadly it was her already wounded one and it stung twice as bad now. Surly she'd be bruised for a while but it was better than a set of broken ribs.

Her arms lowered back to her sides as she charged at him, hoping to turn the tides. Easily, effortlessly, his large hand caught hers and held fast. She went to kick him, but he relinquished his hold and sidestepped her too quickly. She missed and stumbled forward as she lost her balance.

Renzo swiped his arm, successfully implanting his elbow in the base of his daughter's skull. Forthwith her diminutive frame doubled over and she slumped to her knees. For the moment before the pain kicked in she seemed confused and oblivious to what just happened. Her blue eyes fixated on the wall in front of her, her face utterly blank before contorting into one of pure shock and agony.

Her chest heaved forward as she gasped; her hands caught her upper body preventing her face from crashing into the floor. A choked cry escaped and a series of liquid drops smacked the mat in a hypnotizing periodic rhythm. The salty fluid ran the path's paved from previous tears down her cheeks, gathering at the base of her jaw and dripping to the wet spots on the blue texture beneath.

A splitting pain traveled up her neck from the nape to her forehead. Her head throbbed in inflamed distress. The fragile damaged skull seemed to weigh a ton and she could swear her own rapidly fluttering heartbeat was reverberating insideher head. Teeth clenched as tightly as possible holding back the whimpers that so desperately wished to escape. A thick blanket of saliva coated the inside of her mouth and throat making swallowing considerably difficult, along with the pain in the center of her throat.

"Better, but not quite good enough… We're done for today." His gruff voice cut through the pounding in her head. As she turned to look the only thing comprehendible though the blurry liquid world she was currently looking through was her father's retreating form.

As soon as the door shut behind him she tilted her body and allowed herself to fall over onto her side. She let out a series of miserable and rueful mewls and whimpers as she drew her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs tight. Tears flowed freely now that his judgmental gaze was gone.

Though she was relieved training was over she was also filled with regretful sadness. She felt she had disappointed him again, like so many times before and it was hard to bare.

She had no idea how long she had laid there crying as she hoisted herself up into a sitting position. She crossed her legs and sniffled, her right arm wiping vigorously at her eyes to clear them of spilt tears.

Like her father she couldn't understand why she hadn't improved yet. She had done everything right. Done everything he said, he showed her, exactly as he had. So why did she still not feel as though she had made any progress?

Sighing heavily with defeat self-pity seemed to get the better of her. She stared down at her hands, her right currently playing with a loose thread of her pants. "I bet it didn't take this long for nii-san."

The fingernail of her left forefinger began rubbing against the blue mat drawing idle invisible pictures and patterns on the azure foam stuffed material. Gradually she rested her head in her hand watching her finger trace designs and thinking of how she could possibly improve somewhat before her father called her to fight again.

Certainly he'd give her a few days of rest to recover, three or four at the most. That's all the time she had to improve herself, not just physically but mentally as well. Most of taijutsu was anticipating an opponent's moves. If she could do that it would defiantly make things easier. But for that she'd need help, so who could she ask?

Definitely not her mother. She didn't know anything about being a ninja, and certainly not her father. It was him she was angling to impress with her sudden advancement. She could ask her brother, but she felt bad pestering him when he was already so busy.

She frowned unable to think of someone else to ask. She didn't have any friends. She was too young to know anyone yet. She knew some of Katsuo's friends and a few of her father's but asking them would be way too uncomfortable and embarrassing, especially the latter.

Rukia stood up, the sudden rush of blood to her head made her feel dizzy and she leaned against the wall for support. She made her way through the house until she stood before Katsuo's door. The sound of shifting papers and the scratching noise of an ink brush could be heard from inside. She felt guilty bothering him but she had already made it this far and if she turned around now she would probably forget the whole thing.

She paced before the door in a nervous stupor. How was she going to ask him? And why was she so nervous? A shaky hand grasped the doorknob and she swallowed hard. Gathering up her courage she turned the door knob and pushed it open enough to lean in but not fully enter the room. "Nii-san?"

Katsuo remained hunched over his desk, his hand moving ink stained bristles fluidly over a slip of white paper. "What is it Rukia?"

"Um- Well can you help me train?"

"I'm busy right now Rukia."

"Later?"

"Maybe. We'll see."

Rukia swiftly entered the room and stood beside him. She noticed him glance at her briefly before returning to his work. She pouted and clasped her hands under her chin, trying to look as cute as possibly. "Pwease nii-san."

He sighed as she continued trying to work him into submission. "Why do you need my help? Isn't dad helping you?"

Her cute act went right out the window at the mention of their dad and her pout turned to a frown of utter sadness when a picture of their father's disapproving face flashed in her mind. "Daddy thinks I'm weak."

Katsuo lowered the brush to the table before rubbing the sides of his face and making circles with his fingers on his temples. He let out a sigh from either exhaustion or frustration and leaned back in his chair.

She almost snickered when she pictured him in a suit and tie and listening to some man with a business proposition.

His arm snaked its way around her and he picked her up setting her on his knee and bouncing her up and down like he used to when she was younger and upset. It always made her made her smile because apparently it reminded her of a horse and she loved horses.

He stopped when he noticed it wasn't working. She was still frowning and her cheeks were ruddy and tear stained. He found himself getting aggravated. He told their father again and again that he was being too rough on her. "You hurt?"

Rukia gave a small shocked noise and averted her eyes from his. She could feel his gaze burning into her head. She was afraid of what he might do if she told him. He was liable to make their father stop teaching her or make her stop training altogether and she wanted so much to be a ninja, so she shrugged. The only thing she could think of to do at the moment, though for certain, ineffective.

"Alright, where?" His voice was stern and unwavering and she knew she wasn't getting out of this one.

"My arm and my head."

He picked her up and sat her down on his bed. Lifting her arm he examined the damage and noted it wasn't as bad as he expected. There was a red splotch and a small bit of faded black beginning to form, but it wasn't broken or fractured. He cupped her chin and tuned her head from side to side. Not seeing anything he was about to let it go till she gestured to the back of her neck and he tilted her head forward. His unoccupied hand ran through her silken tresses and swept them up, throwing her hair over her face.

She giggled as the strands tickled her cheeks then winced when he touched the bruise at the base of her neck. His fingers pressed along her nape and squeezed the sides gently. "It seems alright, but you should ice it just in case."

"Ok." She ran her fingers through her hair, combing it back into place as soon as he let go.

"Why don't you go find something to do till I'm done here, then I'll help you." He stood and moseyed back over to his desk, not in a hurry in any way to get back to the dreaded paperwork.

As he sat there was a small thud as tiny feet hit the floor and padded over to him. "Like what?"

"Well I don't know… Go make a mess for the maids or something. Shouldn't Dong-mei be teaching you something?"

"No, tomorrow."

"Well then go make a mess for the maids. They need something to do." Katsuo ruffled her hair and picked up a piece of paper, holding it up and reading what he had so far.

Rukia tilted her head in thought and skipped out on her mission to invoke chaos onto the maids.

Over the hours after she left her brother to his work she found several things to entertain herself and cause mayhem amongst the maids. So much in fact that at one point she heard them having a little meeting in the kitchen about what to do about her.

She could see the displeasure in their faces as she skipped out of the messy and practically destroyed rooms, leaving them to clean up her mess. It was sometime in those few hours she realized two things. The first was that it was fun to make a mess. The second was that if something seemed like a stupid thing to do, well then it probably was. That second one came from a very unfortunate scenario in the living room involving a table and the window curtains.

Actually it started out with her sitting bored in the living room twiddling her thumbs only minutes after she left Katsuo's room and realized she had little to no ideas about what to do. Then her three year old mind concocted the idea that it might be fun to climb the picture window curtains. It seemed like a good idea at the time and as she got half way up, but that quickly changed when a snapping sound resounded throughout the room signifying the breaking of the curtain rod.

The rest was a blur but she could clearly recall being wrapped in a crumple of beige fabric and hitting her foot on the coffee table, the glass center cracking down one end from the force of her ankle hitting the polished wood.

The ruckus sent two of the on duty maids soaring into the room and bustling around her. Lifting her up and brushing her off like bees trying to please their queen. Her ankle hurt a little but was rapidly forgotten as she left the maids to clean her mess and ventured towards her next activity. Playing dress up with her mother's clothes.

She rummaged through the dresser drawers, unfolding shirts and holding them up to get a good look. Anything she didn't like was hastily tossed aside while things that tickled her fancy were laid out on the bed for later. She spent several minutes sorting through the closet for dresses and shoes and going through the jewelry box. In the time she spent wearing and changing the clothing she picked out she came up with several outfits she really liked. Too bad the clothing was much too large for her.

Many outfits later the clothing lay strewn about the grand bedroom along with shoes and expensive jewelry. Around her neck hung her mother's diamond incrusted gold cross necklace and on her feet a pair of very pricey very large high heels. She slipped on her mother's black jacket and staggered out of the room, the oversized heels jeopardizing her balance but she liked the click they made on the hardwood as she went along down the hall.

About halfway down though she began to feel the constant array of slips and sways resulting in near falling experiences wasn't worth the lovely sound and kicked them off her feet. Unfortunately Dong-mei, a Chinese lady that served more as a babysitter and teacher than a maid to her, happened to be turning the corner in search of her and tripped over one of the shoes.

She spent the next twenty minuets or so trying to comfort her beloved teacher until she was on her way to wreak more havoc. Beneath the sink in the cupboard lay a bottle of comet cleanser. She put it to her nose and inhaled deeply. She coughed then winced and made a disgusted face followed by the action of sticking her tongue out. "Eww. Who uses this stuff?"

Tossing the bottle over her head it made a loud clatter as it connected with the aqua tiled wall and fell into the tub, a large amount of green powder spilling out across the acrylic bottom. But she paid no mind to that.

After a while of tossing aside cleaning supplies, unrolling rolls of toilet paper around the house, and building a fort out of blankets and chairs Dong-mei was elected by the maids and other on duty workers currently annoyed with her shenanigans to keep the young girl occupied.

She strolled through the house peeking in rooms and calling out for her. Soon enough she came to stand before just about every chair the family owned and probably every blanket that existed in the place as well. "Rukia you get out her right now."

"No."

Dong-mei instantly put her hands on her hips and gave the mountain of blankets with a base of wooden legs the sternest look possible, as if the little trouble maker could see her. "And why not?"

"Cause."

"Because," she emphasized, trying to correct the poor speech, "why?"

"Caaauussseeeee," she whined stretching the word out longer than it needed to be for a dramatic effect.

"Oh, sometimes I just don't know what to do with you. No tell me, why won't you come out?"

"Cause… I don't wanna."

"Oh, you get out here." She knelt down and lifted a corner of blanket. Her chocolate eyes met icy blue as Rukia sat clad in her mother's clothes, knees level with her chest and her arms wrapped around her thighs and calves. "Now come out of there."

"Uh uh," her head shook vigorously from side to side as her grip tightened around her legs.

"Rukia you come out of there right now."

"Nooo."

"Do I have to come in after you?" She questioned, arching a brow in the girl's direction.

Dong-mei watched her face transform into one of pure thought as though she were weighing the options. Her face brightened as she smiled, "looks like."

"Oh, why you…" Dong-mei crawled into the little fort and after the fleeting girl, moving through the carefully crafted structure. Lucky for her, her arms were much longer than Rukia's and she caught her around the stomach. Holding tight she pulled her out as she wiggled and laughed.

Clearly to Rukia this was all just a game, but Dong-mei wasn't nearly as young and crawling around on the floor was more strenuous to her than fun. She carried the squirming child into the kitchen and deposited her in a chair. She opened a kitchen drawer, pulling out a pack of markers and a few sheets of paper before laying them in front of the girl and flipping the light switch. The sunlight seeping through the window was already starting to disappear, what was left of the day setting quickly on the horizon. "Here, have fun. We'll see how much trouble you get into with these."

She watched Rukia go to work on a piece of the paper with a violet marker. Completely wrapped up in her drawing Dong-mei smiled slightly relieved. "Now let me make you a snack."

"I wants peanut butter and jelly." She shifted in the chair till she sat on her knees and was leaning, towering over the surface of the table.

"You want peanut butter and jelly, what?" She made her way to the table and leaned over it to see her face.

Instantly Rukia's hand ceased movement and she looked up. There was a moment of silence as she seemed to be thinking. "Peanut butter and jelly and bread."

Dong-mei smiled but shook her head. "Peanut butter and jelly and bread, what?"

"Um... Peanut butter and jelly and bread… on a plate."

"Peanut butter and jelly and bread on a plate, what?"

She watched Rukia hold up her hands, silently mouthing the things she said and counting them off on her fingers. Her face suddenly lit up with realization and she gave her a small smile. "Please."

Dong-mei laughed and patted her head lovingly as the child went back to her artwork. She went over to the cupboard and pulled the bread and peanut butter out of one of the over head cabinets and went to the fridge. She shifted through the shelves until she came upon several jars of differently flavored fruit preserves. "And which jelly would you like?"

"Umm… blackberry." She capped the violet marker and picked up a red, uncapped it and began working the colored velvet tip over the paper.

Dong-mei pulled out the jelly after a bit of searching and laid it on the counter. She spread the peanut butter over a slice of bread and sprinkled a small bit of sugar over it before she spread the jelly over the other piece and sliced the sandwich in half. Putting the sandwich on a plate she pulled off a few sheets of paper towels and put them on the table beside Rukia, laying the plate on top.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. You want some milk to go with that?"

"Ok." Capping the red she picked up a gray, studied it, then put it down. She got out of her chair and drug it rather noisily over to the drawer and crawled back onto it. She propped herself up, opened the drawer, and began shifting through the contents.

Dong-mei set the milk on the table and went to pull her down from off the chair and away from her persistent search. "Rukia come over here and eat."

"But I need a silver."

Dong-mei led her back to the table hand in hand and set the chair back into its original position. She picked up the gray and handed it to her. "You have one."

Rukia crawled into the chair and put the marker on the table. "It too dark."

"Well we don't have a lighter one so improvise."

"Alright." She picked up the gray and began drawing with it, taking bites of her sandwich here and there while Dong-mei made herself something.

Rukia was finished with her meal first and was currently working yet another color across the picture. Her right hand making large sweeping motions with a light blue.

Feeling rather interested Dong-mei leaned forward to catch a glimpse of her drawing. Rukia noticed this and quickly covered her drawing by laying her arms over the picture. "No looking. I'm not done wif it."

Suddenly she leaned over and reached out, covering her eyes with one tiny hand. Her teacher chuckled heartily at her modest demeanor. "Alright, alright. I won't look." She reached upward and took the tiny hand in her own. "But I might have to eat these little fingers."

Rukia laughed as Dong-mei placed her fingers on her lips and playfully moved them over her skin making little growling noises. "Mei-mei don't eat my fingers," she choked out between fits of giggles.

Dong-mei pulled her into her lap and began tickling her. Rukia squirmed wildly trying to free herself of the relentless fingers attacking her ribs and Dong-mei found herself laughing along with her.

"Mei-mei stop it."

Releasing the struggling girl she watched her slump to the floor trying to catch her breath and quit laughing. "Your mom should be getting home pretty soon."

As if on cue Yuzuki walked through the kitchen door looking rather drained and depressed. Rukia jumped to her feet and ran over to hug her tightly. "Mommy!"

Yuzuki smiled as brightly as she could, trying to cover up the misery that plagued her features as she picked up her daughter. She nodded in Dong-mei's direction acknowledging the greeted she gave her. She kissed Rukia's forehead and bounced her around a little as she held her. "And what has my little baby been up to?"

She opened her arms wide, showing off her outfit and smiling brightly. "Looky mommy, I look just like you."

Yuzuki gasped, "Yes you do. Have you been going through mommy's clothes again?"

"Yes." Her fingers began to play with her mother's bracelet as Yuzuki and Dong-mei began having a discussion and after some time her mother let her down and told her to go play in her room.

Rukia walked hesitantly out of the kitchen looking back longingly at her mother not quite wanting to leave just yet. She walked out into the hallway and halted looking down the corridor. She was curious as to why her mother wanted her out of the room to talk to Dong-mei. Normally she didn't care if she stuck around but over the past month she couldn't help but notice her mother's particularly peculiar behavior.

She seemed exhausted all the time and was almost always leaving in the afternoon to go someplace, but wouldn't say where. It was a secret and she wanted in on it.

She tiptoed over to the kitchen door and pressed herself as close as possible to the wall beside it, listening intently on the conversation going on inside. It was hard to make out what they were saying due to the hushed whispers they were speaking in.

Moving closer to the door she strained to hear what was going on but she had to be careful. The light seeping from the crack beneath the door was something to be avoided. Her shadow would give her away in a second and then she'd be in real trouble.

The beating of her heart accelerated with the excitement of the situation and the fear of being caught and staying completely still was becoming an issue as well as her breathing. It also had accelerated and she had to cup a hand over her mouth to make sure they didn't hear her pants. It probably wasn't even close to as loud as she thought it was, but she was in no position to take the chance. If she was going to get to the bottom of this she had to be stealthy.

It was only minutes later that her heart sank and she gasped. Her eyes went wide and filled with tears as a lump formed within her throat. She felt like she had been stabbed in the gut and they were slowly and agonizingly pulled out, bit by bit. She became increasingly torn between the desire to burst through the door and wrap her arms around her mother, or run to her room and huddle in the closet so no one could lay eyes upon her. Her father had convinced her that crying was a shameful act anymore and here she was standing in the center of the hall practically bawling, or she would be if had she not been intent on keeping quiet.

Hands came up to wipe her face when the tears began falling and she felt it best to leave before she choked up in the hall and just started crying uncontrollably. Even in her tormented state she managed to recall the need to keep the occupants of the kitchen oblivious to her presence and she began slinking away from the door.

The hand on her mouth was clasped so tightly now that her jaw and cheeks had become white around her palm and fingers. Her body was shivering with the repressed sobs yet she still managed to keep herself under control. When she had come to the point she felt comfortable that was far enough away she took off immediately headed for her room in a hurried frenzy. The stairs she took two at a time, not even caring that she could trip or fall.

The moment she reached the top she darted to her room and slammed the door shut. She paced the room sobbing and thinking, her mind working a mile a minute and her throat throbbing. The whole thinking thing probably wasn't the best idea. Every thought only made her crying worse and every thought led to another which led to fresh bursts of tears and unhappiness.

She stopped in mid stride upon hearing a pair of footsteps outside the door. Fearing it may be her mother, or worse, her father; she jumped onto the bed and buried herself beneath the thick cream comforter that had been tucked so neatly to her bed.

"Rukia, what are you doing?"

She sniffled within her hiding place as she recognized her brother's voice. Did he know? Most likely not. "Nothing."

A few footsteps later she felt the bed dip as a greater weight than her own came to rest upon the mattress. She held tight to the blanket when she felt him began to jerk it away from her body and huddled farther into it. She heard him sigh and knew he must be annoyed but right now she just didn't care. She wanted to be alone. "What are you crying about now?"

The only response he got was an array of snuffles and the shaking of the blanket as she was obviously shaking her head beneath it.

Katsuo decided quickly he had played this game long enough. True he had only been there a few minutes but he was irritated and extremely tired. He grabbed the blanket again and jerked it down quickly till her head and half her body was exposed. He went to fix her with a stern look but she flipped onto her stomach and buried her face into the pillowcase. For the first time he became short with her and the moment the words were out there he regretted them. "For fuck sake, what's the problem?"

He watched her tense and become uncomfortably still. She flipped over and stared at him with tear stained eyes like he had grown a second head. That's all she did was stare at him in dumbfounded shock.

"I'm sorry, but jeez what's your problem today?"

Rukia swallowed hard and choked out a simple, "mom."

This caught his attention and he raised an eyebrow in interested confusion. "What about mom?"

Slowly she sat up and thought about what exactly to say. Finally she just decided to tell him what happened. She wiped her eyes and stared down at her bedspread, her thumb and forefinger playing with the threads of the blanket. Somehow not looking at him made her feel more comfortable. "I was listening to Mei-mei talk to mom in the kitchen and… Well all I could make out was that she's sick. She said she was at the doctor and he says that she's gonna die."

There was a long silence between them. Katsuo blinked down at her still trying to digest the information. He was aware that something was wrong but in all truth, this was not what he was expecting. It was nowhere near what he was expecting. Of course he had his guesses or suspicions, but death? No, that was most certainly not one of them.

He sat there in wonderment as he began to question himself, his humanity really, for the first time. He should be feeling something right now, so why wasn't he? There wasn't any sadness, but there wasn't any happiness either. Actually he just felt, blank. That couldn't be normal. He should be reacting in some way, preferably with sadness like his sister. But there was nothing, just nothing.

Finally Rukia looked up at him. Sorrow written on her face and the only thing he could think as he looked at her was _that's normal_. He reached up and wiped tears from her face. It was then that he started to feel bad. Not upset, not unhappy or devastated, just bad. "You can come sleep in my room if you want."

She mustered a tiny smile and grabbed her little wolf stuffed animal before standing to follow him.

Katsuo tucked Rukia into bed and stayed with her till he was sure she was asleep. Though he was tired he was determined to find out if all this was in any way factual. He left the room when he heard the steps in the hallway and met his mother a few feet from his door. After a rather emotional conversation it was confirmed that she was, in deed, dying from cancer. It was never said for sure that it was terminal but the doctor did say that it didn't look good and the chances of death were defiantly there.

She wanted see Rukia and apologize for the way she found out, but after a few minutes of persuasive argument he had managed to convince her to let it go for the night.

He walked back into his room and closed the door gently before leaning his back against it. The pain and sorrow was now starting to seep in through the emotionless barrier he had set up a long time ago. He now understood how Rukia felt just an hour ago. Now that it was confirmed he actually started to feel remorse and he was actually kind of relieved about that.

Katsuo walked over to his desk and sat in the chair. He didn't exactly feel like lying down just yet. He wanted to do something to occupy himself and take his mind off the whole situation and he knew the moment his head hit the pillow and he attempted sleep his mind would just be plagued by thoughts. Morbid thoughts of his mother's dead body or some other horrible thing, more than likely something he had done.

He found that he actually liked killing enemy shinobi more than what someone might consider normal. In his mind it was not just a duty or a means of protection for the village, it was also a great stress reliever. That wasn't a normal way to think. He knew that. He knew that since the day he began to feel that way, but he had changed. He didn't care anymore. He had accepted that he wasn't exactly normal and it didn't bother him anymore. Rarely anything did, except his father.

Now he bothered him. And the way he was training his sister. That bothered him. That was the main reason he had agreed to help her earlier. He could see himself in her. A much younger and innocent him, and their father was destroying that innocent childishness about her. Just like when he was her age.

Jerking in his chair he cracked his neck and began shuffling through his desk drawers. He pulled out everything from one drawer before going to the next. He had defiantly found something to take his mind off everything. He intended to go though all the papers and books taking up much needed storage space in the desk drawers, see what he needed and throw out what he didn't.

He picked up a stack of books and moved them to the end of the desk; he'd get to those later. He started to sort through stacks of papers and just about instantly two stacks began to form on the desk's surface. One of 'throw aways' and the other 'keeps.'

Normally he'd give anything to get his work done quickly, but this was one thing he wanted to last for a long while. As he skimmed the text and tried to make out what the occasional smudged or water smeared ink marks stood for he found that he couldn't concentrate on anything other than the task at hand, and that was strikingly comforting.

When he ran out of papers he picked up the lone stack of books and brought them over to a bookshelf in the far corner of the room. He set them on the floor and knelt down, sitting on his knees. He lifted up the top book. It was rather thick compared to the others so he slipped it into the bottom shelf.

He continued this process till there was only one left and he could not find a single place to put it. Some of the books not lined up were stacked in piles on top others. He shrugged and went to stack the last remaining book atop a rather small pile on the bottom. He slid the book over the top one.

Apparently the one he thought was on the top really wasn't because the one in his hand knocked a rather small one off the top. It smacked the hardwood with a thud, landing with the binding face up and the pages to the ground. He grabbed the binding and went to pick it up when something slid out from between the pages and hit the floor with a clattering ping.

Clearly it was something metal. He moved the book aside and found a silver metal pendant attached to a beaded string. A triangle incased within a broad band of silver was surrounded by a string of exceptionally smooth silver beads. It looked familiar but at the moment he couldn't place it.

He held up the book to read the cover but low and behold there was no title. There was the pendant insignia carved into the leather and laced, in yet, more silver. He flipped it open and found it to be what seemed like a calligraphic journal. It was defiantly hand written and as he flipped through it there were several entries dated at the top right corner.

Shrugging he made himself more comfortable on the floor by sitting Indian style and opened to the first page. There was a short and brief passage that seemed to be some kind of story. He read it over carefully and noted that whoever wrote it had a rather unhealthy obsession with death and destruction, but it caught his attention so they must have done something right.

Skimming over the next page he read and reread a certain name that stuck out for some reason. He had a feeling he heard it before and his mind was screaming that he should know it.

Jashin.

Suddenly something inside clicked and he knew at once he wasn't holding a journal. That man, that man about three years ago gave him this. He wanted him to join some kind of religion that worshipped a deity named Jashin. This must be the bible they follow.

He suddenly became very interested and flipped back to the beginning. He started reading it over, more for the amusement than anything else but also from curiosity.

Surprisingly he found it rather informative and fascinating. Though he couldn't recall the name of the man who gave it to him he did remember the man saying it was the ideal religion for shinobi and now he certainly understood. The entire religion seemed to have been constructed around the basis of the shinobi job.

The entirety he read over so far was merely about how Jashin came to existence and what he demands of his followers. The whole religion was basically about killing in Jashin's name and performing a series of rituals. The only thing that struck him as odd was that followers were to, well quite frankly, mutilate themselves. How the hell were they supposed to live through those kinds of things?

Feeling a bit disheartened he went to close the book when a slip of paper slipped out. Picking it up he scanned the text:

"_New followers unaccompanied report to: _

_Kirigaku__re, the mist village._

_Ask for __Hisashi, The Head Priest."_

Katsuo tilted his head in consideration. Now that he read the man's name the memory was completely clear in his mind.

He suddenly realized exactly what he was considering and nearly crinkled the paper and tossed it in the trash, almost. Something stopped him and he just stared at little yellow slip. He sighed defeated and carefully placed the paper inside the cover. He couldn't lie. He was tired of the whole Catholic thing. It's like everything he did was a sin and he just couldn't live like that.

Suddenly he smirked, getting up and moving over to the desk he pulled out the top drawer and tucked the bible safely away. After all, if you don't like something, change it right?

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. Been horribly busy. I'll try to update again soon.

Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it. Review? Please ^^


	6. The voice of requiem

**Shadow of the Moon**

**The voice of requiem**

_Death is sometimes a punishment, often a gift; to many it has been a favor.  
~ Seneca_

He pushes ahead, through the gaps between billowing trees and over harsh thickets of underbrush that would occasionally catch and latch onto the swathes of his robes. His shinobi clothing and headband lay nestled within the confines of a covert little grove, filled with sprouting saplings and maples all of which were covered in a fine sheen of early dew and glistening droplets.

Ubiquitous fog lays a constant thick blanket of heavy vapor amid the trees and the backwater village up ahead. The mist is at its thickest in the early morning hours, just when the sun begins to warm the nightly chilled earth and waters that encompass the bantam almost nonexistent island.

Seeing more than a few inches ahead of oneself is considered difficult and nary a possibility at this time, but he knows these woods, knows these lands, knows them like he knows the back of his hand.

And surely he should. He's wondered this vary path on the same grounds more times than he could count, and it always leads to the same place.

There's sunlight streaming in through the canopy of leaves, piercing through the heavy blanket of swirling white just a little ways up ahead and he knows he will emerge from the security of the trees and into the village shortly.

He stops for a mere instant, smoothing out the wrinkles the burgundy fabric has developed during his trek through the moist shrubbery and arranging his robes back into a presentable fashion, the straps in their places, the golden brooches in theirs, and the layers of excess fabric trailing and billowing in the graceful manner in which they were meant.

All in all he is the epitome of the high ranked Jashinist in which he has become.

He then takes the time to make sure his weapons are in the right places for easy access should a complication occur before continuing on once more.

For one of the Five Great Shinobi Countries, Kirigakure runs rampant with chaos and delinquency. Their own citizens have long since turned on one another, including their shinobi. Anyone found to have a kekkei genkai is killed without hesitation sometime in the afternoon hours where you can join the swarming mass of shouting people that have gathered at the base of the scaffold, just off the center of the village, and witness the hangings for yourself.

He shakes his head, it's a shame really.

Then there are the wars that break out at a pretty constant rate. Not to mention the thieves and gang members that have taken control of the country's funds and shipments of imported goods.

It's no wonder why Hisashi chose this particular village for the training of new recruits. With all the disorder and villagers fretting about how they'll get their next meal, who would notice or pay any mind to the citizens that turned up dead?

No one, that's who. The villagers regarded it as nothing more than a blessing in disguise. It was one less person and one less person meant one less mouth to feed, one less person to pay, and one more job available for the others.

The bodies of the sacrificial victims, however gruesome a condition they were found in, were miracles to those still living and the growing sect was only happy to oblige with another.

After all, every sacrifice, every indulgence in the gruesome ritualistic murders was a step closer to pleasing Jashin, to proving oneself to the Head Priests, to becoming the bearer of what was considered Jashin's most glorious gift, immortality.

And oh, how he wanted that. It was mankind's greatest pursuit and a rare opportunity within the sect. Only those who showed true promise and an undying unquestioning loyalty were given the option.

He steps out onto the dirt road and into the view of the public, well what public there was at such early hour anyway. To them he is defiantly part of a religious order, to which one they aren't sure and it's apparent the way they toss questioning glances his way, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't rob him without a moment's hesitation if they believed he had money.

A young girl in her early teens standing nearby gawking at him catches his eye and he tosses her a smile and a little wave. It sends her into a smiling giggling frenzy before she runs off to keep pace with what seems to be her mother, though you never can tell in these parts, since most children here are orphans either by the death of family or just being cast aside, thrown out in the streets to fend for themselves because their parents can't care for them. But there are the lucky few taken in by strangers kind and willing enough to take on the responsibility of providing for one more.

He continues to watch them and notices the rather sluggish pace at which the girl must walks in order to remain near the older woman. He notices her looking over her shoulder at him in a nervous and somewhat sly fashion, blushing, and looking away.

They are both dressed particularly poorly, even for this village. The clothing, little more than rags sown together, is not nearly sufficient for the fast approaching winter and he can tell by the way the old woman hesitates and stares longingly at some of the cheaper items of food that they won't make it.

He thinks of following them. He thinks of luring them into the woods, farther and farther until they're a safe distance from the street full of passing eyes. He thinks of sacrificing them, of bathing in their blood, of expediting the inevitability of their deaths. He'd be doing them a favor really.

True the girl isn't exactly what you would call a child and in any other village he'd consider her of adequate age to fend alone, but not this one.

She can't survive in such a place by herself, he knows this. She will either die from hypothermia or starvation and that's only if he didn't take into consideration all the other possibilities. Rape, robbery, murder, suicide, the list goes on. And it would so easy too. The wrongness of taking away life has long since run out for him and has been replaced with a sense of satisfaction and purpose.

He pays them one finale glance and then he's moving again. He's far too busy for that right now. Maybe another time, maybe later, but not now.

He kicks up dirt in his anxiousness and grimaces. Clearly the village is too poor to afford to pave the roads. There are small holes and indents from wagon wheels and horse hooves digging into the moistened earth and weeds are growing like rapid fire, distorting the trail.

It's constantly damp due to the humidity and though that never changes the degree of wetness at which the soil is varies.

It's no problem as of now, but just wait till later, when the fog lifts ever so slightly and the moister seeps into the ground. It's an exceptionally longer and more strenuous journey trying to fight your way through a thick concoction of mire and knee high weeds. That's when it gets to be a problem.

But as of right now he could care less. He has a rather special request to put in to Hisashi and the rest of the religious order and he'd be dammed if something as trivial as mud would stop him.

He's considered the idea for quite some time now and has come to the decision it's what's best for the parties concerned, he's entirely convinced of it.

So he continues through the desolate streets till he reaches the so called 'better part of town' and makes his way up the graying stone steps in front of a rather immense old temple, or what used to be one at some point in time, that they use as a meeting place and kind of a 'school' for the new followers.

Though it's surrounded by beautiful tranquil scenery of bonsai, cherry blossoms, and fountains the place is quite a fixer upper. All the inhabitants have long since abandoned the place and the religion it was once used for could be extinct now for all anyone knows.

Some repairs have been made but it's still sort of shabby looking, the stones crumbling in different places while the decorative carvings within the slate walls fade more and more each day. Moss and vines full of purple flowers are climbing upwards, using the structure as a path all the while reaching for the heavens.

The heavy wooden doors lead to an extensive corridor veering off into different directions as it leads to many rooms, most of which are decorated in black with gold tints and designs running along the walls.

Hisashi's voice, deep and powerful, resounds throughout the main chamber and into the hallway as he walks by, providing knowledge of lessons and sermons for newcomers and those still in training. He knows better than anyone it doesn't take any particular amount of time to get where he is. It depends on interest and ambition.

He peers inside; the pews are full which is somewhat odd. They're never full. They've been close but never truly full.

The mass consists generally of youthful faces, yet some old, all dressed in the white robes received upon entrance.

Hisashi stands boldly behind the altar clad in the black garb that signifies his high stature and leadership.

The Jashinist religion contains apparel in a total of four different colors.

1. White, standing for learning and purity is given to those just joining.

2. Blue means healing and is therefore given to members that have decided to specialize in the healing arts. Their main jobs are to heal wounded members and perform the ritual for immortality.

3. Red, meaning 'The Sacred', are just below the High and Head Priests. Their job is to recruit members and teach the rituals.

4. Black, the final color stands for darkness and is worn by Hisashi the Head Priest and his three chosen subordinates. As Head Priest, Hisashi makes all final decisions regarding anything from rituals to proper punishment for insolence. His subordinates oversee everything and report back to him. They are also in charge of recommending promising members for the rite of immortality.

Hisashi is soon finished preaching and exits into the hallway while the students proceed to leave and attend to their duties. Once Hisashi catches him in sight a warm smile of welcome takes over his features and he claps him on the shoulder in a friendly and somewhat playful gesture. "Katsuo, I wasn't aware you were coming today. Not that I'm disappointed of course."

Katsuo fidgets for a split second in a moment of nervousness. His face showed only slight happiness before returning to its deathly seriousness. Hisashi's smile falters and Katsuo knows he's aware something is weighing on his mind.

He breaths deep and decides not to forestall the inevitable. If he's going to do it he's going to do it now and get it over with. "I wish I could say this is a social visit but I have a rather serious matter in which I'd like to discuss, privately." He nods to the three priests that have just walked into the hallway out of curiosity of what's going on, acknowledging that he does not want them to be part of the conversation.

Hisashi nods and takes on a more dutiful look, letting him know he considers the matter of the utmost importance and is willing to listen. "Of course. Wait in my office; I'll just be a moment."

He proceeds past the three priests who in turn follow him with their eyes before Hisashi's voice succeeds instantly in gaining their attentiveness.

Within moments he's sitting across from a mahogany desk, his mind racing, trying to conjure the correct words to use in his request.

The door opens and Hisashi is abruptly seated behind the desk, his fingers laced together, his hands resting on the table. "So what is this matter in which you would like to discuss?"

________________________________________________________________________________________

Rukia sat beside her teacher on the uncomfortable resistance that created the foundation of a richly polished piano bench, trapped within the confines of the music room as she was everyday around mid afternoon. But she didn't mind. Actually this was her favorite time of day. Since her mother's demise Dong-mei was constantly with her, teaching her everything and anything.

From art to science and everything in between. Dance, math, music, proper etiquette, and even what was considered the customary way to walk if you were a noble girl and once it was mastered she was required to do it all the time.

In all honesty it wasn't even half as easy as it sounded. It had taken approximately a month and half, at the very least, for her to truly succeed, and Dong-mei, not one to break the rules, would scold her perpetually for not walking the 'correct' way.

Safe to say she had it down to a fine art, in fact it was completely habitual now. She couldn't remember a single time anywhere in the past five months that she was chastised for walking aberrantly.

It was a rather stressful schedule already plus her daily training session with either her brother or father, whoever happened to be at the house when that time rolled around.

In fact the real reason Dong-mei had taught her the noble way to walk so early on was to help contribute to her training and as odd as it sounded at the time it really seemed to help. She would tell her, when she got a little hostile from the annoyance of having to repeat the action in a continuous cycle and bluntly refused to do it, "A sure foot is the key to grace and agility."

She was skeptical in the beginning but when she found she was able to dodge kicks and punches that before she'd never have a chance of getting away from unscathed, she realized it actually was really working.

She believed just about everything Dong-mei told her now and was always anxious to learn something more from her vast knowledge, which was probably what she was shooting for when she taught her that.

And although there were several subjects that held her fascination, nothing captivated her more than music. Every song Dong-mei educated her in was one she could reminisce within cherished memories of her mother's lilting and beautiful voice singing sweetly.

Her fingertips gingerly began to play over the keys, her favorite song, gently at first as if they were made of ivory eggshells and black velvet until she becomes enthralled in the passion of the melody and she played louder, bolder, more vibrantly.

Dong-mei commences to hum the lyrics of the chorus as she plays, they are perfectly in sync with one another and Rukia begins to hum quietly with her, a subtle smile on her lips.

The song is one of many compositions there exists for the sixteenth century English folk song "Greensleeves." This particular variation played by a musician dubbed David Nevue, and she thinks his version is the most soothing of all versions, what with its vast array of pitches, none too high, none too low.

She finishes the piece and she thinks it's over too soon, always too soon. She wants more time, more time to remember her mother, more time to remember everything about the first time she heard the song right down to the most precise of details.

Dong-mei is proud and ecstatic beside her, raining praise of a fabulous job, but she hears none of it. At the moment she doesn't care for the constant array of praise and adoration from her teacher.

There's an overwhelming urge to be alone, alone in her silence, alone in her thoughts where her mother lives on. But it's not healthy. She knows it's not. She shouldn't dwell on death, but it's not fair. It's just not fair. "Mei-mei?"

Dong-mei's words cease at the sour voice and she studies her student's perplexed face staring intently at a mahogany base filled with aging ivory keys. "hmm?"

"Why do we die?"

The question full of suddenness and insistency of a response that it catches her off guard. For a short interval all she can do is gape at her until the girl twists her upper body towards her and meets her stare, clearly displeased with the silence that has settled over them for too long.

Cold eyes stare up at her as time drags on and she awaits her answer, she expects her answer.

She clears her throat to sooth the developed aching there as she tries desperately to think up an explanation, one of satisfaction, but really she doesn't know what to say. Her mouth opens and shuts as she thinks up something, begins to speak, and then discards it as too complex.

Not to mention she's still somewhat shocked by the look she is receiving, one that she has never seen Rukia give anyone, especially her, before. "Well, people die because there comes a time when they can't live any longer. It happens to everyone at some point. When people die it's just their time."

Brows nit together and she frowns. She's frustrated, confused, and most of all angry. It's not an adequate answer, it's not why. She wants to know why and that has nothing to do with it, or at least the why in which she is looking for.

She knows people die in time. She knows there's a time in everyone's life when they must cease to exist. She knows this, but why? Why does it have to happen? What happens afterwards? She wants to know, wants to understand, but she can't because no one can tell her. No one can sate the burning questions that haunt her every waking moment.

She scoffs before hoping down from the bench, sauntering to the door. She opens it, crosses the threshold and turns back, shooting a deadly glare at a wide eyed Dong-mei who is currently gawking at her in disbelief. It's almost as if she never knew her precious pupil could be enraged, enraged at her, enraged at the world, enraged at life itself.

Her eyes narrow more and slowly she closes the door watching it shut in front of her. It shuts, a defining click slicing through the silence like a knife to butter before the hush calm is welcomed back seconds later.

She stands there clutching the knob and listening. Soon enough she comes to realize that Dong-mei isn't going to be coming after her like she usually would. She hasn't heard so much as a ruffle of her dress, in which case she must sill be sitting by the piano, her gaze burning into the door.

She begins to wander off in no particular direction. The only thought in her mind is that she has to get away. She needs some time to herself.

Rukia traipses aimlessly throughout the house and into particularly empty rooms. She takes in the constant all too familiar scenery with fascination as though it were the first time she has laid eyes on it. And in a way it is.

She had never _really_ taken in all the décor, never really stopped to appreciate the lavishness and luxuries within the house.

Occasionally she'd outstretch an arm and allow her fingers to glide over the smooth surface of a table that reeks of the lemon scent of dust cleaner or some other citrus fruit. Her fingertips would trace the smooth curves that defines it shape and sometimes, if it had any, the carved lines of a design inset within oak.

Eventually she finds herself in the dining room and she takes a seat at the elongated table. She starts playing with the white lace tablecloth, pushing her fingers through the holes and tapping her nails on the wood.

This was her mother's favorite room of the house. It was one of the very few places in which they all came together and actually communicated, actually acted somewhat like a family. At least she thinks they did. She doesn't know what a _normal_ family acts like, but she likes to pretend that they were one during meals.

"You should be in the music room."

Her body jerks violently in surprise and she clambers out of the dining chair, twirling around to stare into ochre irises. "Nii-san? You're home early."

He's standing in the doorway, leaning sideways against the frame. He's dressed in his shinobi clothes, as was normal, but something seemed a tad bit off. She doesn't pay any mind to it. She's delighted to see him. She wants to smile, to hug him and laugh like she used to, but she frowns instead and turns her gaze to her feet, wiggling her lilac painted toes and watching the polish glint in the light.

They haven't been as close since their mother died. Not since he started taking twice as many missions and disappearing during the night. Where he went was a complete and utter mystery but he always seemed happy when he returned. There was a kind of bounce in his step and he always seemed to walk in confident strides.

She suspected he might be going to that secret place after missions because most of the time he was late coming home and that that may be the reason why he was taking so many. It would most defiantly be convenient, but she couldn't be sure. And now him being early just threw her for a loop.

"Yes I'm early. I figured you'd be happy about that, seeing as how I'd be able to train you today."

"I am happy." She says it, but in such a way that he doesn't buy it, and if he does he knows something is wrong. She breathes deep and looks up him. He seems astonishingly tense, troubled even, and she cranes her neck a bit to see his expression better.

Her left eye squints slightly as her right brow rises in her bewilderment. He's defiantly anxious about something which is highly unusual for him. He's normally so relaxed, so composed. "Why are you so uneasy nii-san?"

She studies his face searching for anything to betray his emotions, but all he does is stare down at her and blink. "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

He chuckles heartedly and shakes his head in some kind of disbelief. He steps forward and ruffles her hair. "Let's just get this training done, huh?"

She makes a noise in her throat and looks away. "I don't feel much up to training today."

"Hmm, why not?"

"I dunno," she shrugs, averting her eyes to the window. She sees it has begun to rain and the liquid hits the window in a soothing pattern of tiny pitters upon the glass. She watches as they collect into a mass and run down in long streaks. She loves the rain, loves the sound. "I just don't want to today."

"That's too bad. I was going to start you on kunai today," he looks at her discreetly, seeking a change of heart, excitement even, directed at the possibility. He finds it, though she's not as vibrant as he would have anticipated.

She smirks a little and starts walking with him to the training room. She's waited at the least a year for this and she's excited. For the first time in the past six months she is genuinely excited.

Katsuo pushes and holds the door open, walking in behind her. He releases the wooden edge and it slams shut with a booming thud that makes his sister jump somewhat. It's the noise. She's always been rather sensitive to loud noises.

Within seconds he's across the room and pulling out a cluster of sharp knives. He lays them in neat rows on the table before beckoning her over.

After a rather long lecture on how to hold the kunai and the proper throwing technique, that he's sure she hasn't paid the slightest bit of attention to, he hands her one of the knives.

She takes it, almost dropping it as she isn't used to the heaviness and the cold steal chills her hand. She grips it tighter in her right, her left coming up to finger the instrument in an array of curious grazes and pokes.

After a moment of examination she brings her arm back, whips it forward, and releases the knife. There's a small thud as it sinks into the target across the way, nowhere near the center but in the target nonetheless.

She feels a weight on her back and realizes it's her brother's hand and that he is smiling at her. She can't help but smile back at him and he hands her another knife.

She was so tired after the day's events that she was certain she'd have little to no problems falling asleep like she normally did. In training she had managed to hit the target a majority of the time and even got a few to hit dead center.

Katsuo told her she was a natural and with a little practice she could be exceptionally talented in the field of weaponry. He then proceeded to tell her he was proud of her and that she should go on learning as much as she could in all three fields, especially genjutsu.

Apparently her senses were too sensitive and she would need to learn to dispel genjutsu since enemies would find it to be the most effective form against her, which made sense really.

She paced around her room as she prepared for bed. Her mind was screaming something was wrong. Her brother had been acting strangely all day and when he spoke to her she could swear he did as if he'd never do it again. It was unnerving and she was worried. She hoped it was just her imagination running wild like it always did; at least that's what everyone told her, she had an active imagination.

Still she couldn't shake the feeling of impending apprehension. Something was going to happen. She was positive of it. But when? Tonight? Tomorrow? She had no idea.

Sitting on her bed she arranged her pillows to exactly the way she liked them and tried desperately to let go of the urge to run to her brother's room and accuse him of being up to no good.

Surely he couldn't be doing anything of the sort. He was a noble man that loved his family and village. What did she have to worry about?

She suddenly scoffed, scolding herself for thinking such things. It was just her mind, her young mind playing tricks on her.

There was a knock at her door and she turned just in time to see Dong-mei enter the room looking rather sympathetic. She didn't say a word as she sat on the bed. She didn't say a word when she reached out and embraced her.

Rukia went rigid at first, not expecting the loving contact at all. She thought she would get yelled at, be punished for her unruly behavior earlier, but it seems that wasn't the case. Slowly she returned the hug and gripped her teacher tighter when she felt hot tears fall on her cheek. "Why are you crying mei-mei?"

Though she couldn't see her face she heard her click her tongue and knew she was trying to gain composure over herself. She pulled away and smiled at her tears still dripping down her face as she stood. "It's nothing. You just get some sleep ok."

It wasn't a request but a command and Rukia sat confused as Dong-mei exited the room. She frowned and nearly punched the wall but she settled for flopping onto her back and staring at the ceiling, this day was just too confusing.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

It was late, sometime around midnight and the moonlight seeped into her room from the open window, bathing her bed and sleeping form in its ominous glow. Wind swirling the curtains and making them flutter at the edges.

She was sleeping peacefully now, after hours of constant thoughts swimming in her head keeping her awake, but it wouldn't last.

A horrified shriek pierced the tranquility of night and she jolted upright, looked around in wonderment as shrieking transformed into desperate incoherent cries. She was becoming frightened, her breathing escalating and her heartbeat palpitating.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when her door was wrenched open and she stared terrified as her father gripped her arm and yanked her out of bed, shushing her and practically flying down the stairs with her in his arms.

He hastily jogged though the house taking her into the kitchen and setting her down, feet striking the cold tile at an uncomfortable speed and making them sting. All throughout the house the maids were running amok in a terrified frenzy, packing things and doing God knows what while outside, what was one scream turned into several, all amplified by the close proximity and pure terror.

Her face was suddenly gripped roughly and turned to face into her father's. He was urgent, quiet but urgent and unbelievably serious when he spoke in a harsh whisper. "I want you to sneak out the back. You find a place to hide until the coast is clear and then I want you to get to the dock as fast as you can. Get on one of the boats and get to the next village. Understood?"

She swallowed hard feeling as though she was about to burst into tears she was so afraid. Her heart was hammering in her chest and the thought of going alone made her want to scream at him, hit him, beg him not to leave her. She didn't understand what was going on but it sounded serious and she dare not question him. She couldn't speak so she settled for shaking her head frantically.

His thumb rubbed over her cheek softly before he patted her shoulder. "Good girl. Take this," he gripped her wrist and made her fingers curl around the steel handle of a kunai. "You take that and if you need to use it you use it. Now go."

He pushed her towards the door and she took off though it, plunging into the frigid darkness and running as fast as she could through the courtyard, chilled air making her skin prickle. Slinking through the trees she used them as cover trying her best to keep herself hidden.

As she was passing a billowing cherry blossom her foot suddenly caught a root and she fell. Her wrists and hands stung as she landed on them. Her knee scraped the ground, tearing a hole in her pant leg and ripping flesh away, blood springing to the wound trying to clot before she lost too much and passed out.

She heard something and immediately scurried behind the tree, leaning against it as she panted hard and held her sleeve to the cut, remaining as still as possible.

She let her head fall back and rest against the rough bark before closing her eyes, tying to calm herself. Another ear splitting screams rang out all around her and there were loud clashes of metal against metal.

Ninja were clearly fighting off whoever was attacking while the citizens ran for their lives. She began to cry. She felt so helpless but she clung to the kunai in her hand, clutching it as hard as possible. Somehow having it made her feel a little stronger.

She wiped at her cheeks and eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. Sobs wanted to escape and they burned at the base of her neck, but she couldn't cry if she wanted to get out of this alive.

Panic was blurring her sight enough she couldn't possibly afford tears as well.

She peeked out from behind the thick coarse surface of tree bark. She could clearly see people fleeing in stampedes and ninja fighting. She felt so guilty doing nothing.

She watched as men in dark red robes, similar to a monk's, continued to slaughter the innocent without a sense of remorse and she wondered if they were meant to be red or just stained that way with blood.

Some of the people fleeing were caught in the back by some sort of weaponry. They either fell there dead or fell there still struggling to get away, to get up and run before one of the men walked over and finished them off, crimson spraying everywhere.

There were children standing about the streets crying and wailing for their parents all the while being passed by flocks of adults trying to escape.

She turned away in horrified disgust before a thought crossed her mind, nii-san. Where was he and did he know? What about Dong-mei?

Hastily she stood and took off back to the house. She ran inside and slipped, sliding across the kitchen floor and smacking her head upon the wall, unbearably hard. Her hand sprang to her mouth holding in a cry of agony, sorrow, and terror.

In the kitchen, next to the back door, lay Dong-mei's dead body, her throat was slashed open, a large pool of scarlet seeping and running along the grooves of the ivory tile while her eyes remained open, staring at her. Her breath caught, her hands along with her body began shaking violently as she stared at the body and her reflection in those lifeless eyes, then at her bloodied feet and pants.

She could suddenly hear footsteps on the stairs; she panicked and hid beneath the table. The hand covering her mouth also pinched her nose shut to keep her crazed breathes quiet.

The footsteps entered the kitchen and she watched the silhouette of the man play over the extra long table cloth as he circled it. When he got to the other end he stopped hesitantly and she knew she had to get out of there.

There wasn't a single doubt in her mind he saw the blood trail that led from the body to the wall from her slipping in it. She crawled out from the table and into the next room before finding another hiding place.

A loud clatter arose from the kitchen as the tablecloth was ripped from its position and sent a shower of silverware and dishes to the floor. Blatant splintering ricocheted as the table was broken in half, or cut in half and flung to the opposing wall.

There was a curse and then a yell before she heard another man enter the kitchen from the back door inquiring as to what the problem was.

"You didn't see the kid do you?"

"No, I thought it was your job to get the brat."

"It was, but I can't find her."

"Well you better keep looking. You have any idea what'll happen if we show up back at the sect without the girl? Katsuo and Hisashi will sacrifice us both to Jashin."

Rukia went wide-eyes and gasped. This was all because of nii-san? She didn't want to believe it and tears ran out of her eyes. She fisted her hair and shook her head ferociously.

"Yeah, I know that. Do me a favor and check the yard while I look around a bit more."

"Yeah, whatever."

She kept quiet in her hiding place and much to her relief she heard the man walk up the stairs. Crawling out, she took off to the master bedroom. She'd have to be quick if she were to get what she needed and out before he came back.

She went into the closet and found her mother's old black coat. She threw it on in the hope that the added length of material would help to keep her pants from smearing blood on anything that may give away her position and took off at a dead run for the back door.

Luckily she made it outside in time before the man came down the stairs. The bad luck was the man that was supposed to be looking for her outside happened to be making his way back inside to tell his partner he couldn't find her.

She tried to dodge him but he grabbed her and yanked her inside, pulling her to the base of the stairs. "Hey! You'll never guess what I found." She sneered at his little sing song voice, mocking, easing her.

The other man came to stand at the top and smirked down at him. "Well how'd you pull that one off?"

"Let's just say I'm good like that."

The other man let out a sadistic laugh and made his way down, taking hold of her arm before sending the other away to 'have some fun' while he kept an eye on her.

Rukia struggled fervently but he would have none of that. He smacked her and her cheek turned a bright red as he scolded her, dragging her over to the couch. He sat her down before sitting beside her, still gripping her arm harshly and cursing her for taking the fun out of the slaughter, at least for him.

She waited there on the couch till he stopped staring at her and became occupied with something else. When he finally did turn away she pulled out the kunai and sliced his wrist. He let out a howl of pain and relinquished his hold long enough for her to dart out the front door, him in quick pursuit behind her retreating form.

Using the panicked crowd to her advantage she dove between peoples' legs and in between the rapidly moving bodies. It wasn't long before he had lost track of her and she was running down alleys, weaving her way in between buildings and looking back over her shoulder in case he was chasing her.

She found herself in an alley in front of a Christian church where she hid in the shadows. A group of robed men had set the church on fire with a locked group of people inside. The doors were chained shut and the windows boarded up, and they were screaming, begging them to let them out but they were laughing.

She threw up when she saw them crucifying the priests before setting them on fire as well. The stench of burning flesh and hair scorching the night air was horrid and the sound was even worse. The fire was licking the building like a cat. The flames crackling, the embers blazing feverishly.

Run, she kept hearing it over and over in her mind. At first she thought it was her telling herself that, but it wasn't. The voice was much too deep and clearly male. She looked around thinking someone found her, thinking it was one of the villagers trying to help her, but no one was around. She fell to her knees, holding her sides and crying as she decided to give up. She'd never make it out of the alley without getting caught, never.

An image flashed in her mind. She could see bars, clear white crystallized bars that looked like they were constructed of ice instead of metal and smoke was seeping between them in pants, like breathing. It was cold, freezing in fact and a pair of silver eyes snapped open, glowing behind the crystal pillars. There was a growl, and then a set of teeth and two rather large fangs snapped the bars and as it roared. A deafening roar of power and demand, _**Run!**_

She jumped back in fear before pushing herself upright and taking off out of the alley and making a break for the dock. Minuets seemed like hours and she could distinctly hear the array of footsteps keeping pace behind her, but soon enough she heard the pounding of her feet upon the wooden planks and the group behind her cease chase.

She had never heard anything more beautiful. It was the sound of her freedom and when she reached the end she plowed right into a solid body falling back and whimpering. Six or seven men dressed in shinobi clothing and strange headbands pushed past her, drawing weapons and engaging the enemy.

She fell onto the ground trembling and weeping, she looked up to see a man full of sympathy and utter shock with a mane of thick white hair tied back in a pony tail staring at her. What struck her as odd were the red streaks running down his cheeks from his eyes and she could see herself laughing about it any other day, but not this one.

He bent down and picked her up, instinctively she clung to him and began begging him not to take her back there.

He hushed her, rubbing her back and cradling her there. "It's alright I'm not taking you back. Calm down."

After a moment he pulled her away and started wiping her face clean. "Where's your family?"

She paused and began sobbing uncontrollable once more. She shrugged and bombarded him with a constant array of "I don't know." She couldn't control herself anymore no matter how much she wanted to.

He tried to pull her away. He wanted to help the others, but she couldn't find the will to let go. She clung tighter imploring him not to leave her.

Before she could comprehend what was going on her rescuer was speaking quickly with an arriving boat full of ninja and then they were both sitting in a boat, her on his lap as he rocked her continuing to tell her it would be ok and to stop crying.

Her mind was swimming. _Why? Why did this happen? What did I do?_

_**Death is the only immortal who treats us all alike, whose peace and whose refuge are for us all. The soiled and the pure, the rich and the poor, the loved and the unloved. This has nothing to do with you.**_

Her eyes widened and she gasped. Was that in her head or did the man just say that? Had she been speaking her thought aloud? She couldn't tell.

Pulling away she looked up at him with watery eyes, lifting her sleeve to wipe them clean. "Who are you?"

He gave her a pretentious and bright smile before pointing his thumb towards his chest, "I am the great toad mountain sage, Jiraiya!"

He was so self-righteous, so confident, and so funny, she smiled.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

**Author's note: **Ok I know it's sucky, sorry about that. Well for those who have been waiting for Deidara he'll be in the next chapter, so yay ^^


	7. Fatherhood and Friendship

Shadow of the Moon

Fatherhood and Friendship

_Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same._

"Jiraiya-danna!?"

She was yelling for him, _again_.

He grimaced, releasing the bubbling irritation that had conjured within his stomach, first in a series of rickety breaths, then in a suction of air that resembled something akin to a wince, though not a very profound one due to his profuse exhaustion. It was only about the ninth time she had woken him from his pleasant and rather perverse dreams within the past 5 hours with a shrill shriek or an aggressive array of shoves to the side.

He wasn't used to this.

Wasn't used to being needed in such a constant and unceasing persistency, especially by such a traumatized juvenile innocence.

Sure, he had taken care of, or "adopted", quite a few children in the past… what? 10, 12 years? Eh, he wasn't sure anymore. It could very well be significantly more just as much as it could be less, and he preferred to blame his memory, or lack thereof, on his sleep depravation and deter from nagging claims of old age.

He snorted. He wasn't that old. Was he?

Well whatever. He might not be able to recollect the exact number of years he had been taking in apprentices and helping them acquire the vast knowledge that was that of a Legendary Sannin. May not be able to recall the exact amount of kids he tutored. He may not even be able to remember all their ages, names, or specialties, but one thing was for certain, she was by far the youngest.

"Jiraiya-danna!?"

Growling he smacked his forehead with bruising force. _And the most annoying._

"Uhh… I'm coming, I'm coming. Hold your horses already," he says, more to himself really though it wasn't intended that way. He seriously doubted he could have yelled it to her even if he wanted to.

He was just too tired. His voice, just too hoarse.

He sighs heavily, pushing his debilitated and heavy form upwards from the cheep hotel bed, ripping furiously at the sheet that refused to release him from its comforting cotton security.

The bed frame creaks noisily as he disperses his weight and the blankets are pulled off the mattress entirely by a trapped fabric clad foot. He shakes his ankle free and begins hoping desperately that her incisive neediness will be short lived and it was just a temporary result of, what people have come to refer to as 'a religious debate', two months ago.

He scoffs at that. He's never been involved with anything religious related, but it appeared they found any reason possible to justify killing for the means of their God. He's always thought that and it's always appeared that way, but whatever religion that was at Moon Country took things to a whole new level... They went way too far and now he was stuck with a child that most of the time elicited some form of irritation.

Hell, he waited for hours that night, in the bitter cold on Kumogakure's dock searching hordes of traumatized and trembling people for someone, anyone she knew. Unfortunately they had come up empty by the last few boatfuls and he felt far too much pity for the innocent little thing to just dump her off in some orphanage or with some elderly couple, but right at this moment he was _really_ starting to reconsider.

Parenthood, in his opinion, was pure burden and he for one wasn't cut out for it. The fact people actually opted for this suffering only made him question the sanity of his fellow human beings.

He didn't know what he enjoyed more: the restless nights, the constant complaining, the fact he never had more than a minute to himself, or the damper the kid put on his 'personal' life.

He yawns noisily and stumbles out the door, cursing as he stubs his toes on the base frame but pushes himself down the hallway.

The floorboards groan relentlessly under each footfall and he inwardly scrunches at the high grating noise.

"Damn hotel and their damn separate rooms," he curses pushing the slightly ajar door open fully.

Rukia is sitting up in the bed staring at him in the doorway. She looks neither frightened nor excited so he hasn't the vaguest guess what she wants this time.

He leans in, bracing himself on the doorframe to keep from tumbling forward and tips his head slightly down. "What?"

She frowns and scratches at her wrist. "I'm antsy," she whines, a smidgen of irritation laced in the words.

Jiraiya's fingers twitch. He wants to punch the wall, or better yet throw something through the glass window and take solace in the therapeutic clatter of the shattering transparent shards connecting noisily with floorboards and outside grass clad dirt.

He smiles. Yes, that would be good.

He suddenly feels a headache coming on and begins massaging his temples, biting his tongue till the enamel is dangerously close to piercing the mass of slick muscle and fleshy tissue, the nerves sending painful shockwaves throughout his jaw. "Rukia, I have been up and down running in and out of here all night. I'm tired, I'm frustrated, but most of all I'm irritated. Now if you keep aggravating me I'm going to owe this hotel 3 years of paychecks by the end of the night."

"But danna I'm antsy." She drawls her words and jumps up to sit on her knees, scratching at her forearm and he wonders if she developed that as a nervous habit.

He rolls his eyes and smacks his sides with his arms before going on some kind of rant about how life was out to get him and how he could never win. She cocks her head, _typical Jiraiya-danna._

It's only after he regains composure he realizes he's been shaking his head and pacing the room like a madman and Rukia, all the while, had been watching him, finding the tirade rather humorous in nature.

He sighs and begins to wipe the crud out of his eyes. "Come on, you can sleep in my room. I am not getting up again tonight."

He hears the blanket hit the floor and her tiny footsteps padding down the hallway. He leans against the wall and throws his head back to collide with the structure. If he prayed to any God in particular he'd be cursing him by now.

Jiraiya saunters out of the room and pays a quick glance at the clock, 4:18. "Great, have to be up in 3 hours," he growls entering his room and falling on the unoccupied side of the mattress.

He lays there on his back, coverless and unmoving; to lazy to get up even momentarily to pull some of blanket out from underneath his body and provide himself with a smidgen of the wool barrier to protect him from the chill in the air.

"Danna?"

"Oh, what now?" He whines on the verge of either crying or losing control entirely.

"Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. Just go to sleep."

There's silence. Sweet, wonderful silence and Jiraiya rolls onto his side in the hopes of achieving the sweet obliviousness that comes with being unconscious.

He jerks suddenly in surprise.

Something was tickling his arm and one of his legs, moving over to his other. Almost like something crawling on him. He jolts upright and notices the tiny black dots running over his flesh and he jumps off the bed with a loud yelp and a curse.

Rukia's head peaks over the side and stares at him with that young innocent face he finds so damn adorable.

"Damn it Rukia, you're covered in ants."

"I thought that's what antsy means," she pouts, her eyes looking down and sideways as she appears to be thinking.

"Where'd all these ants come from?" he yells and she slinks back, surprised by the harshness in his tone.

"You broke my ant farm, remember?"

"Uh, that fu- freaking ant farm," Jiraiya mumbles catching himself in mid swear. "Should have just let you get the damn puppy."

He stands and picks her up walking her to the bathroom and setting her down.. He moves over the tub and turns on the tap. Water gushes out in bursts and he lets a sizable amount pool into the basin before turning it off. "Well congratulations you have officially succeeded in waking me up. Now take a bath and give me your clothes so I can get them washed."

"Ok.. Does this mean I'm getting a puppy?" She smiles excitedly and claps her hands a few times in a rapid motion of exhilaration.

"No," he uses his hand to make a slashing motion in midair as he walks out the door to give her some privacy, "no pets.."

"Meany," she pouts, mumbling angrily and starts undressing, throwing her dirty clothes into the hall and shutting the door.

She walks over to the tub and tests the water, running her hand through the warm fluency before slipping in, becoming instantly relaxed.

***********

Two hours later they're on the road, Jaraiya leading the way and Rukia lagging behind somewhat to examine things that tickle her fancy and play around with some of the various wildlife within the vicinity, particularly a certain monarch butterfly that seems to have finally decided to fly too high for the dainty reaching hands.

Normally it would take him at the very most 3 hours to reach Iwagakure from their current location, but he has a feeling they'll be on the road somewhere around 5 hours possibly 6, considering his low energy level and that Rukia can only keep up with his strides to a certain extent before he normally has to carry her.

Rukia skips up to him after momentarily watching a little red bird hop about the grass in search of food. "Jaraiya-danna, why are we going to- to- um…"

"Iwagakure," he provides, saying it deliberately slow so she'll remember and be able to pronounce it.

"Yeah, Iwagakure. Why are we going there?"

"Well other than to collect some information for Konoha I intend to do some, well research." He grins widely in a rather goofy looking manner and uses a hand to stifle his somewhat crazed chuckles.

Rukia tilts her head and wanders what's so funny about research. It sounds more boring than anything, but then again Jaraiya never took her with him so she really wouldn't know. It was a grown up matter, he'd say.

Besides she had only known him for about two months so it's safe to say they were both still getting used to one another and she enjoyed the silence, the solitude of being along every now and then, though she wished she knew someone around her own age.

Don't get her wrong. Jaraiya could be fun every so often but she wanted someone that actually saw the joy in playing chase or hide and seek. Someone who saw it as more of an enjoyable sense of fun rather than an obligation or a temporary way to make her happy before returning their attention to an assortment of tedious tasks.

And in any case, Jaraiya was usually much too busy for the things she deemed 'fun.' If he wasn't out researching he was writing for his book, taking care of her, or teaching her something shinobi related.

Though she refused to answer his inquiries on what exactly happened that fateful night they met or about what and how much she had seen, she had informed him all about her training and he had picked up from where her father and brother left off.

Though he had quickly come to find anything related to Moon Country was a rather touchy subject.

She had gotten much better at handling kunai and he even said he was impressed when she demonstrated, what she though to be no more than minor skills.

He had even introduced shuriken and chakra control. Her assignment now was just to practice it whenever they stopped and there was talk of staying in Iwagakure for a year or two, hopefully enough time to make a few friends. Though that was pretty doubtful, considering what she was.

Jaraiya was always honest, sometimes even brutally so, but she liked that about him. She was rather concerned when she started hearing the voice in her head, concerned enough for her own sanity that she had voiced it to him, which is when she learned about jinchuuriki and bijuu. They hadn't gotten much into it yet but he had promised sometime within the year he would teach her how to draw out its power.

She was suddenly startled out of her thoughts by Jaraiya speaking and glanced upward. "You know there'll be a festival there in about a week. They have fireworks. Do you like fireworks?"

"Mm, fireworks? What's fireworks?"

He halted and looked at her with astonished disbelief, "Don't tell me you've never been to a festival. In a village like the one you lived at you should have had several a year."

"Daddy never let me go. He said I was too young," the last part came out more of a choked sob. It was weird talking about her father. She couldn't be sure if he was dead or not, but if he wasn't, he never came looking for her. And apparently, as far as Jiraiya was concerned, he might as well be. He never actually said it to her face, but she had ears. She heard him on the phone or with woman at stores, talking about how he had _adopted_ her..

Jaraiya noticed her gloomy face and cleared his throat to get her attention and keep her from thinking anymore about her lost family. "Well you'll see when the time rolls around. And seeing as how we'll be in the village for a while I plan on signing you up for a couple of classes."

That caught her attention and she was instantly curious and a little excited, "Like what?"

He smiled and began walking again, Rukia following eagerly. "Well I remember you saying something about liking your music class," he teased and Rukia clapped her hands smiling.

"I like music class. Can I take it? Please, please," she implored giving him the cutest puppy face she could muster.

He laughed heartily, "Yeah alright. I'll also sign you up for dance and maybe something for all that proper stuff."

"Ohhh… Do I have to?"

"Normally I'd say no but they might be good skills to know for future reference, plus dance will defiantly help your footwork."

"Ok." They continued on in silence, Rukia sulking slightly as she followed behind. She really didn't want to take classes about being 'proper' but he might be right. It may come in handy one day.

***********

Like he anticipated 5 hours later they were walking through two upturned rocks that mark the entrance of Iwagakure..

Rukia took hold of Jaraiya's shirt. Crowds of people were bustling around, probably getting things ready in preparation for the annual festival.

Citizens were standing about the streets, hanging papier-mâché lanterns and putting together carts and tables. She glanced around in awestruck wonderment. After living with Jaraiya she had been to a couple different villages but none like this.

It was mostly a craggy desert like terrain surrounded by countryside with splotches of lush greenery throughout the interior. A river ran along the city and the town was absolutely full of temples. _They must take their religion seriously. _

_**Yes, perhaps you'll find one someday. Huh, little one?**_

She smiles, overjoyed to hear his voice again and laughs slightly within her mind. His voice sounded rather jaunty today as if delighted to be getting out somewhere interesting and different.

At first talking to him was rather awkward and uncomfortable, but now it was like a normal everyday occurrence. The incessant whisper no longer bothered her; in fact she looked forward to it. _Maybe, what are you doing Yuki?_

_**Taking in the scenery. **_

He laughed when her face scrunched with the sudden realization that the only reason he said that was because that's exactly what she was doing at the moment and he really didn't have much of a choice in the matter. In fact he couldn't really do much of anything. Everything he saw, heard, tasted, basically experienced was because she was experiencing it, but he could defiantly throw in his input on situations. When he wanted to that is.

_**You best stay focused on Jaraiya now, wouldn't want you getting swept away in the crowd. We'll talk later. Say hi to the old man eh?**_

As if clockwork Jaraiya reached down and grabbed her arm in order to make sure she didn't get lost or wonder off in all the excitement and led her to an inn across the way.

They entered the outdated but well kept building, a bell above the door chiming to signal their entry. Jaraiya nodded to the man who was in the midst of helping another customer signifying he'd wait.

He looked down feeling a small tug on his shirt to see Rukia smiling up at him, looking relatively pleased about something. "Yuki says hi."

His eyebrows rise in astonished amusement, "Really? And here I thought he didn't like me."

She giggled at that. "He says you have only one thing on the brain, but he won't tell me what."

He laughs, but not just any laugh. A full blown fit of chuckles, "Well what can I say. When he's right he's right," he seems boastful, full of pride for a moment.

"Which reminds me, I have to get researching. Here take this." He hands her some money and a kunai pouch. "Find yourself someplace to practice and get yourself something to eat. Just be sure to stay where there are lots of people."

She frowns, unsure. "By myself?"

He lowers himself till he's in a squatting position and is as face to face with her as he can possibly get. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. You're pretty grown up despite your young age, which is why you have to understand I can't be with you all the time. You have to learn to do things on your own. That's the only way you'll become a great shinobi. Now go on." He nods to the door and pats her shoulder before standing and addressing the hotel personnel waiting to speak with him behind the counter.

Rukia walks hesitantly into the street, glancing around as she pockets the money and straps the pouch to her thigh. She can hear the metal shift and cling as several collide within the suede pouch.

After a moments deliberation she finds the only way to come across an adequate training space would be to walk around the village. There's usually a target range somewhere within the park and the park is always pretty close to the ninja academy, all she needs to do is find it.

She turns right and starts a steady pace towards the village center, eyes peeled in search of her prize.

************

A female cropped-haired brunette stands before a relatively sizable group of students, especially for this time of year with graduation just around the corner.

The number of students had doubled since the beginning of the year. The exceptionally hasty excelling students have been advanced through the classes up to hers and she finds she doesn't even know a small majority of their names, but she does know a certain blonde male sitting way in the back.

She found early on it was not only her duty to teach the boy, but to keep a keen eye on him as well. There was always someone picking on the blonde genius for his astonishing or_ interesting_ attributes. If he had any friends at all she wasn't aware of it, but he was a rather remarkable pupil. A true genius, although seemingly unintentional, and he had the most eminent passion for the arts.

She often caught him doodling in a wire bound notebook rather than completing the scheduled homework assignment, and sometimes when she went around the room glancing at her students' work she found him crafting some kind of animal out of a small glob of clay.

It always ended with her taking it off him and although she wasn't particularly fond of stifling his creativity, it was class time and while it was so he was required to pay attention and she was required to enforce learning by means or homework, tests, and lectures. Not art. He would have plenty of time for that at home or during lunch time, even recess if he so desired.

Speaking of recess it was just about that time for her to release the anxious mass to the overheated and craggy outdoors. A small break for their constant hours of learning and attention and for some just another means in which to study or practice chakra control, weaponry, and various jutsu.

She clears her throat and her students glance up at her, some ceasing their pencil strokes in order to do so. "Alright, it's time for recess. Those of you who aren't finished with your written assignment may continue when you return."

The group stands and practically sprints out the door, the boys mostly. Some pushing and shoving to get out of the classroom and a few of the girls forming into a crowd to make snarky comments about them being rude or inconsiderate.

The long haired blonde boy is the last one out of the room, like always. Never excited and always lagging behind the other children knowing full well they want nothing to do with him. They've all made that quiet clear.

He walks outside and sits at a rustic decaying picnic table, away from the other children. He tries to get semi comfortable on the rotting and splintering wood before flipping open his notebook and coming across a bird drawing.

He picks up his pencil, darkening the outlines of the creature and adding more detail to the wings, the eyes, and the talons. He smiles to himself, his hand working in slow precise movements, careful not to make any mistakes on his current masterpiece.

There's a sudden shadow that grows over his hunched form and the lined paper clutched in his hands. He becomes suddenly irked and a bit fearful. He knows who it is; he knows the boy means trouble.

He winces when a hand shoves him roughly between the shoulder blades, causing his upper body to jolt forward and his ribs to connect swiftly and painfully with the table's rigid edge. His teeth grit as he refuses to let out the squeak of pain that resides in his throat.

"Hey Deidara. Whatcha doing, besides being a pansy?"

He blinks as rage bubbles inside him, but instead of turning around and decking the boy in the jaw like he wants to, he goes back to drawing ignoring the boy which is clearly aggravating him.

"Hey, I'm talking to you freak. You should talk back jerk, it's not like anyone else is gonna talk to you."

Deidara growls his displeasure but remains quiet. That is until the kid ripped his notebook away from him. "Give it back," he shouts, hateful and threatening, staring his classmate down as best he can.

"Or what?" The red head taunts him, waving the notebook in front of his face and pulling it away when the younger reaches for it. "How did you get in this class anyway? What are you, 4?

Deidara glares before seething at him, "I'm 7 you ass."

"Yeah, whatever. You look like a 4 year old girl.. And those hands of yours are absolutely disgusting. What kind of freak has tongues on their hands?"

"It sounds more like your jealous I'm a better ninja than you, yeah."

He scoffs, "you better than me. Heh, don't make me laugh. You're half the ninja I am."

Before Deidara can respond the boy tears several pages of his notebook in half before throwing them in his face and tossing the remaining bound pages over his shoulder. "Now that's art," he patronizes.

Deidara bit his lip to keep from crying. Blood dripped from the incision and down his chin while tears welled up in his eyes and he stares at all his hard work, all his effort, everything he worked so hard on just torn apart and tossed away like trash.

He can't say anything, can't think of any words to respond. Not even when the boy laughs and walks away casting insults over his shoulder. He stands there for several minutes just staring at his torn up art and listening to the other students. Some are snickering, some are laughing, and some of the girls are somewhat sympathetic. Though they hate him as well because of his hands he can hear them say "he didn't deserve that" a very seldom occurrence.

He can no longer linger in their prescience and he takes off at a dead run, making his way to the park.. Tears blur his vision and a few tree branches hit him dead square in the face, but he pays no mind to them and continues running.

The park is the only place he's safe from them. From their cruelties and judgment. It's the only place with trees, with bushes in which to hide away from them behind as he hugs his form and releases his sorrows.

He curses his hands. His life. His lineage.

He suddenly hits something and falls back, hearing a small and clearly feminine yelp followed by a wince.

Wiping his eyes he takes in the form of a small girl pushing herself up from her face first position on the ground. He's positive she's not from the village judging by her choice of clothing. No one in the village wears black denim jeans, though they might wear a long sleeved ivory shirt. But jeans, especially black ones were unheard of. They were confining, hard to maneuver in, and much too hot for Iwagakure.

She sits up rubbing her elbow and turns to look at him. She's noticeably younger than him though cute he thinks. She has pretty eyes, blue like his but lighter, almost like ice. She has strange hair, long and black with defining noticeable streaks of deep rich blue and he can't help wonder if they're dyed into the dark tresses.

She stares at him for a moment before smiling, and now he's defiantly convinced she's new to the village. No one who knew him smiled his way.

Rukia stared at the boy that had, quite literally, run into her. He was so adorable. Honey hair tied in a high ponytail, a strand of thick locks covering an ocean blue left eye. His ensemble, nothing more than a pair of comfortable and cool looking sandy colored shorts and a short sleeved white shirt. Defiantly a good idea considering the heat and she wishes Jiraiya would have at least warned her before leaving the inn.

She smiled at him and he looked instantly edgy and shocked. "Hi," she waved.

He held up a fist and looked as though he was about to uncurl his fingers and wave back, that is until something clearly occurred to him by the look on his face and he dropped his hand, frowning and standing up.

A confused Rukia followed suit, standing a mere 3 feet from him. Feeling it may be a better route to actually introduce herself she gave him a relatively friendly smile and without thinking reached out grabbing his hand in order to shake it as was accustomed to do when meeting new people. "I'm Rukia."

The boy gasped, his eyes quickly averted from hers and stared intently at their joined hands, just staring at them like it was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

Before she was given the opportunity to ask what was wrong or even what his name was, there was a sudden tickling on her palm and something wet was running along the lines of her hand. She giggled and turned his hand over clutching it in both of hers to see were the wet sensation was coming from.

The boy panicked suddenly and pulled his hand back, but not until after she saw what was clearly a tongue sticking out of his palm.

He jerked back raining a shower of apologies akin to "I'm sorry about that" to "I should have stopped you earlier" until she started to giggle. He went silent and so did she when she noticed the rather cold stare he was giving her. "Stop laughing at me!"

She frowned when he yelled. It was not her intention to offend him or make him think she could possibly be laughing _at_ him. "I wasn't. It just tickled is all." Leaning towards him she pointed to th hand he was currently trying to hide, "Is that a kekkei genkai?"

He hesitated, looking at her with skepticism, a little surprised, like no one had ever asked about his hands before. Which made her wonder exactly who wouldn't? "Uh, yeah."

"It's cute. Can I see it again, please?"

He cradled his hand to his chest, rubbing over the pale flesh of the backside with his other. He was nervous and just completely astonished anyone would ever actually _want_ to see his hands or that they would show any interest in him at all.. "You really don't mind my hands, un? I mean they don't bother you, yeah?"

He watched her shake her head for a moment. "Nope. Why should they? It's unique, different, and I like different."

Deidara blinked, "you like different, un?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because- Well, I am different. And everyone should be, right?"

"I guess, un.."

"So, what's your name anyways?"

"Deidara," he replied watching her hand outstretch again but stop short of grabbing his this time.

Rukia frowned at her new acquaintance. He really didn't seem to get the whole shake hands upon meeting thing. "Deidara you're supposed to shake it."

For the first time upon their meeting he smiled, actually smiled which made her smile back and he rubbed the back of his head in a clumsy forgetful sort of way, "Oh yeah. Sorry, un."

He reached out and clasped hands with the young girl, moving it about so she couldn't say he didn't actually 'shake' hands. They separated after the tongue, which was just minutes ago a dreaded curse on him, snaked out and licked her palm yet again. But this time they both laughed.

He turned his palm face up, in his hand a pearly row of teeth showed, smiling up at him before disappearing once again. Maybe they really weren't as bad as he originally thought after all.

The two spent an hour or so sitting across from each other in the park, simply talking. Deidara telling her about the academy, his artwork, and suggesting pointers on how to focus charka into the soles of her feet to help in climbing trees. Rukia explained about her own training and her 'situation' with not having any parents without going into any major or specific details, not entirely aware of how the topic actually arose in the first place.

The conversation swiftly turned to their mutual likes and dislikes along with opposite preferences on food, colors, clothing, etc.

Rukia also noticed and questioned Deidara's on his custom of adding an 'un' or a 'yeah' at the end of his sentences, which apparently was a habit. A habit she found to be interesting and strangely enough, comforting. She liked it.

Deidara suddenly jumped up and paced a few times in a panicked state, concerning Rukia until he explained recess had long been over and he'd be in huge trouble if he didn't get back to class.

Rukia frowned, "Aww, you really have to go?"

Deidara smiled, liking the feeling that came with her not wanting him to leave.. "Just for now. I'll come back after class if you want, yeah."

Jumping up she gave Deidara a quick hug around the waist. He went uncomfortable still for a moment but soon relaxed into the sensation as she grinned at him, "I'll wait here for you then."

"Ok. I'll be back soon, un." Deidara jogged off back towards the academy, turning and waving when he heard her yell bye.

With Deidara gone Rukia sauntered about the small training area, feeling somewhat lonesome and anticipating his return came to stand before a towering oak.

Conjuring up all the information he had told her she focused on channeling chakra to her feet.

Several minutes ticked by till she could feel it, a warm sensation coursing through her and gathering at her feet. She released it, gathered it again, and continued the cycle several times. Practicing and getting a feel for it similar to stretching before strenuous activities.

Satisfied she reached into the suede pouch at her thigh, taking in hand one the several knives for marking purposes. Poising the weapon at the ready by her side and channeling chakra back to the soles of her feet she took off at a dead run at the tree, determined to make it to the top no matter what.

************

Deidara kicked a tiny pebble away from the weed infested trail made substantially of dust and rocks on his way back to the training grounds residing within the canopy shrouded park, just about the only place that offered relief from the sun's year round brutality.

He had been in deep water earlier when he burst through the classroom door apologizing for his tardiness. Apparently sorry just doesn't cut it anymore considering the teacher made it a requirement for him to stay after class to make up for what he had missed out on, not that it was a big deal or anything, to him anyways.

He was one of the smartest kids in the class and what usually took the slower students a lengthy amount of time to absorb took him half that if not less. He soaked up every lesson like a sponge, completed his assignments with A quality work, though, not quite the effort, while still having time for his art.

Speaking of which he had stopped off to pick up his notebook, well what was left of it. After flipping through a minimal amount of pages it became apparent that practically everything had been torn apart. He ended up tossing its entire contents into the trash after that.

He was disappointed but knew he could make up for his lost effort. He just needed a new notebook which he had plenty of hoarded in his closet at home. He'd pick out a suitable one later.

Shortly he had arrived at the designated spot they had agreed on. He glanced around. He didn't see her anywhere and he was beginning to feel discouraged, ready to turn around and head home.

He should have anticipated her departure, anticipated she wouldn't be there. He sighed. No one was ever there for him, the abnormal and 'freakish' child.

"Dei-Dei!"

He jerked his head, looking around frantically but still he saw nothing. Just trees, wood posts, and benches.

"Up here!"

Glancing up he found none other than Rukia sitting, perched on a tree branch amongst the emerald foliage several feet above the ground. He smirked, waving up at her as she laughed, smiling and swinging her legs about proud of herself. "Been practicing, un?"

"Yep. Come up here. Look what I found," she called down gesturing frantically with her hand and demanding his presence next to her.

Concentrating his chakra he was up the tree and next her in matter of seconds.

"Welcome back," she expresses her happiness with a gleaming smile and short lived touch to the shoulder before she was up and climbing around to the other side of the tree with an obscene lack of caution a beginner should posses. He followed anxiously, for more than one reason, to see what she found and soon they were both sitting on the same tree branch staring at a bundle of twigs bound with mud, pieces of string, and the glinting corner of what was believed to be a candy wrapper. Within the center of the rather bulky structure housed 3 brown splotched eggs.

Probably hawk eggs from the size of them and considering the surrounding environment and the species of birds that lived in such an ecosystem hawk was the best guess.

Deidara stared at the speckled ovals, ocean eyes shimmering with fascination. He'd lived in the village for seven years and in that time he'd seen thousands of birds but never a nest, never baby birds. His hand seemed to act on its own accord, reaching towards the apparently smooth eggshell exterior.

He wanted to touch one, see if it really as smooth as it appeared, maybe hold it in his fist and study the structure of it, but his hand was gently smacked away before the lingering fingers could make its acquaintanceship.

"Don't touch them Dei-Dei, otherwise the mommy might not come back," she warned frowning with concern and hint of sadness.

He turned and scowled a little. His inquisitive mind still desired answers about the three mysteries that lay only a mere few inches away, nestled safely upon the thin interwoven twigs. "How do you know, un?"

She responds by throwing him a look of pride, the kind people only show when they possess a self-knowledge about a certain situation, before she explains her reasons of protest. "Jaraiya-danna told me that in the last village we stayed at." For a moment things were silent until her face lit up with realization and she let out a subtle gasp, "We should come back every day until they hatch. I've never seen a baby birdy before."

Deidara smirked with obvious approval, "That's a good idea. I've never seen a baby bird either, un. Come on let's get down from here now, yeah."

"Ok," Rukia began climbing down, swiftly following after Deidara. "So what do you wanna do?"

"Um," he paused and jumped down from a low hanging branch, strips of bark falling around his feet upon landing firmly on the ground. He rubbed the nape of his neck and watched as she hopped down. "Well, I could show you around the village, yeah."

He smiled as she nodded and began walking, Rukia keeping pace beside him as they emerged from the wooded area. He pointed to a medium sized building surrounded by picnic tables, most in the worst of condition. "That's the academy."

She stopped and so did he. He watched her glancing around, appraising the surrounding area and taking it all in. she tilted her head in consideration before twisting back to him and they started walking. "So when do you graduate?"

"In about a month. Do you plan on attending the academy here, un?"

She looked down sulking and kicking at clumps of dirt as they kept going. "I doubt it. We'll probably leave before I get the chance."

He frowned, "Oh. How long are you staying for, un?"

She shrugged, continuing to stare at the dandelions and swarming bees in their desperate search of pollen. "Two years, maybe. He isn't sure yet."

"Why are you here, un?"

"So danna can finish his book."

"Hmm." He elbowed her gently and pointed to a small shop. "Oh that's the best place to get dango."

"Dango? Mmm, I love dango."

They both laughed and continued on. Deidara pointing out all the best places to eat in his opinion and different shops for a variety of things, jewelry, art supplies, clothes, weapons, and endless others.

After a few hours of browsing in stores, visiting the inside of temples out of mere curiosity of what they looked like on the interior, and running about the village in a persistent game of tag, which Deidara had intentionally let her win, they had stopped to rest under a willow tree next to the largest cluster of houses within the village walls.

There was a sudden rumble in the atmosphere and the sky went dark, grey clouds obscuring the sun and sky.

Deidara jumped to his feet, grabbed her wrist on his way and hauling her up pulling her along behind him in a dead run. "Come on! Hurry up, yeah!"

Rukia panted hard, trying her best to keep up with his grueling pace, but he undoubtedly had twice the practice she ever did with channeling and using chakra to make him sprint faster and that made it all the more difficult to keep pace with the golden haired boy.

Rain started to pour vigorously from above, drenching them both in a matter of seconds and caking strands of gold and black to cream skin. The drops pelted the ground turning dirt to thick mud and running down branches like tiny rivers only to drip from the tips of leaves.

Deidara stopped and sighed when her wrist broke away from his firm grip and she stood in the middle of the road glancing around, small puffs of visible vapor breaking from her mouth as the surrounding temperature began to drop from its usual high.

He trudged up to her, taking her arm and attempting to pull her along, but she refused to budge this time and continued to glance around in an odd fascination. He grunted to get her attention, which he was successful in and stared her unbelieving in the eyes. "Don't tell me you've never seen rain before, un."

Blue eyes narrowed defensively and her brows furrowed slightly, "Of course I've seen rain before. I love the rain. It's life and it sounds beautiful. Don't you think so?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Yes it sound nice but now I'm soaked."

She shuffled across the path as though oblivious to his annoyance and held her hand up to caught water droplets from a nearby tree's leaves in her palm. Eyes watching the water collect and spill over, tiny rivers running down her arm and fingers as she smiled.

Deidara simply stood there, gazing at her in curious wonder. Watching the rain soak into her clothes all the while running over her hair and drip off the edges. He could feel his own hair sticking to his cheek and blanketing over his eye. He just didn't get her. Who could love the rain so much they'd willingly stand in a downpour? Not him that's for sure.

He suddenly smirked and moved forward to take her hand again and tugging lightly. "Come on Rukia, Let's get out of the rain now, yeah?"

She turned, meeting his eyes and nodded before letting him lead her back along the path. "Where are we going anyways?"

"My house. It's over there, un"

He pulled her up the porch steps and sighed, relieved to no longer be pelted with rain drops. The entire house was dark and silent. It took on an almost forbidden, dreary sort of look and she subconsciously moved closer to him in search of reassurance and comfort.

He continued to drag her into the house and straight to what she could only guess was his bedroom.

The walls were all mismatched; none were painted a solid color anymore, though they were at one point. Now they were covered with several different paintings of scenery, animals, and mythical creatures. There were drawings hanging up around the room and his shelves were full of books and clay models, mostly birds, which she had taken upon herself to fondle carefully and admire upon the release of her arm.

Deidara shifted his weight from foot to foot in a jittery show of self-consciousness and flicked the light switch. A dim light lit the room adequately enough and made all the colors on the walls stand out defiantly against the base color.

She picked up a small clay bird that appealed to her more than the others and held it up to him. "It's beautiful. What kind of bird is this?"

He smiled at the compliment but then frowned a bit. "I'd have to look it up, yeah. I don't remember." He walked over and pulled down a thick book and started flipping through it. "I craft most of my art from pictures, un."

Rukia arched an eyebrow at him. He seemed a bit unhappy about something. "What's wrong Dei-Dei?"

He sighed, shutting the book and dropping it on the floor. A loud thud resounded through the room and she winced as it reached her over sensitive ears. "Won't your parents get mad if you make too much noise?"

"Nah. My dad died in the war and my mom's at work, un." He took the clay bird from her and turned it around in his hand. "Eh, it's missing something."

"Missing something? I think it's pretty."

He handed it back and turned back to rifle through his dresser. "You can have that if you want, un."

Her eyes jerked up to him in shock. "Really? I can have it?"

"Sure, yeah." He pulled out some clothes and tossed her a couple of the articles which she caught effortlessly. "You can put those on. There big but there dry, un."

"Ok. Thanks."

"You can use my room, yeah. I'll use the bathroom." He left shutting the door securely behind him.

Rukia clutched the hem of her shirt and yanked it over her head before quickly pulling on Deidara's navy shirt. The wet denim of her jeans was a bit harder to get off but she managed to squirm out of them rather quickly and climbed into the pair of khaki shorts.

It was then she defiantly realized the whole size difference between Deidara and herself. The shirt was quite baggy on her extending to about mid-thigh and his shorts wore more like actual pants on her, though they left most of her calves visible stopping just a bit below the knees.

She stretched and arched forward slightly till her back cracked the baggy navy material rubbing against her skin before falling loosely back into place as she straightened herself.

She began walking about the room, glancing at the walls and shelves full of the artistic creations of Deidara's mind. Skipping towards the wall she reached up and ran her hand admiringly over the red scales of a dragon's neck, down the jagged gray spikes along its backbone, and finally over the curvature of its long and graceful tail.

There was a sudden bang at the front of the room. She jerked and twirled towards the door in a panic where Deidara stood in dry clothes smirking cockily at her. "Scared ya, yeah?"

She breathed deep trying to relax and persuaded her heat to let up its drastic palpitations and beat in a normal healthy rhythm. She glared at him and covered her heart, feeling its lively and erratic beating from being startled within her chest. "That wasn't funny."

Deidara's lips curved up into a full blown smile and subtle chuckling erupted from his throat. "It was from here." He walked over and gestured towards the dragon, "You like it, yeah?"

She looked momentarily shocked before suddenly realizing he had asked her a question. She smiled courteously and looked back at the wall. "It's beautiful. You're really talented Dei-Dei."

Rukia watched his eyes widen suddenly before glancing away sheepishly, his cheeks colored a subtle stain of pink. "You're just saying that, un."

Her eyes closed as her head shook in earnest. "Uh uh. You're a real good artist."

Deidara glanced at her and smiled. "Thanks, un."

"You're welcome Dei-Dei. So how long do you think it's going to rain?"

"Well, it could be hours, un."

"What?!" Rukia's eyes widened in horror and she began to pace the floor. Deidara watched her in confusion as she rambled something about how Jiraiya would be worried if she wasn't back soon.

Deidara jogged up to her side and gripped her firmly by the shoulders. "Don't worry, un. As soon as the rain stops we can go the inn. I doubt he'll be mad if you tell him I wouldn't let you walk home alone in the rain, yeah."

"I guess so, but he'll still be worried." She pouted and Deidara released his hold.

"Don't worry, un. It'll be fine. I'm gonna get some dinner you hungry, un?"

She smiled sweetly at his concern. "Yeah a little."

He waved and began walking towards his door. "Come on then, yeah."

She followed him obediently to the kitchen where he began opening cupboards and drawers. "How do feel about ramen?"

"Sounds good, but do you really think we should be cooking?"

He took down two packs of instant noodles and laid them gently on the counter. He turned around till his back was pressed against the edge and his hands gripped the sides, his arms bent. He looked rather self-assured standing there like that and cracked a small smirk in her direction. "No, I don't think that _we_ should be cooking, un. Which is why _you_ are going to sit at the table and watch the artist work his magic, and before you say anything I've been cooking foe myself since I was your age so hushidy hush, yeah."

Rukia giggled at his choice of words but sat at the table as he turned back towards the cupboards and began his search for a pot, which he found in record time and began to fill with water. He placed the water on the burner, set it to high, and made his way over to the fridge.

He pulled out two cans of soda placing both on the table, one in front of her and went back over to the stove. The room was filled with silence that was swiftly broken when Deidara resumed his self-assured posture and began to drum his fingers along the counter. He looked over when he heard Rukia's small laughter. "What, un?"

She cupped a hand over her mouth and shook her head.

Deidara of course, being the inquisitive kind, would have non of that and narrowed his eyes. He leaned forward in an almost threatening way. "What, un?"

Slowly she withdrew her hand. She was smiling and obviously still stifling laughter. "Nothing it's just when you stand like that you look like an overseer or something."

"Pft. Yeah right, un."

"You do. You look all mighty powerful." A new fit of giggles assaulted her and he rolled his eyes.

The water started to bubble and he quickly added the noodles. Three minutes later he was dividing portions and served them both a bowl of beef flavored ramen.

Deidara's had disappeared within minutes and Rukia was too busy staring at him to even touch hers. She was utterly shocked anyone could inhale food that hot that quick and she only started eating when Deidara elbowed her arm, just hard enough to send a message.

He watched her finish up what was left in her bowl as he drank his soda, hers of course remained untouched so far. When she finished he placed the bowls in the sink for later and lead the way back to his bedroom.

It was getting late and truth be told he was rather tired. He was going to walk her to the inn after dinner but a quick glance out the window foiled his plans, so now entertaining his guest was in order and that was something he had no idea how to do.

He sat on the bed and she followed, sitting at the bottom sipping her soda. They engaged in small talk for a while though he was completely aware of her rising anxiety as she continuously glanced out the window and frowned when she was greeted by the same disappointing result.

Neither was sure when, or how for that matter that in actually happened, but at some point they both had fallen asleep and after several hours Deidara was the first to wake up. He rubbed his eyes slowly yawning and when awareness set in he jolted upright. Rukia was somehow next to him curled against his side with her right arm draped across his abdomen and was now staring at him tiredly. He could no longer hear the rain though when he looked it was drizzling slightly, not too bad that he couldn't get her home without succumbing to discomfort. "Uh, we should really get you home, un."

She yawned and sat up hastily, climbing out of the warm comfort and gathering her damp clothes. "Ohh, Jiraiya's gonna be so mad."

Deidara stood and began to walk clumsily towards to the living room in search of his shoes. "Don't worry. Just say it was all my fault, un."

Rukia shifted anxiously in the living room as Deidara yanked his shoes on and led the way out the door. She followed him closely as he led her through the village and to the inn. She cringed and nearly made a break for it when she saw none other than Jiraiya standing sopping wet in the doorway with an indiscernible expression. He was glancing at them with a mix of furry and concern, probably debating whether to beat her or hug her.

When they reached him she smiled cautiously and waved trying to seem innocent. "Hi Jiraiya-danna."

"Where in the hell have you been?" Rukia shrank back as he growled furiously at her. She wasn't sure what to say and thankfully she didn't have to since Deidara decided to speak up.

"Actually it was my fault sir. I wouldn't let her walk home in the rain and then we kinda fell asleep waiting for it to stop, un."

Jiraiya's face softened and he sighed. "Well I guess its fine. As long as you're alright. Go inside and get some more sleep."

"Ok danna." Rukia hugged Deidara and after his initial surprise faded her hugged her back. "Bye Dei-Dei. I'll see you later."

"Uh, See ya, yeah." Deidara turned and began walking back towards home. The thought of more sleep and a warm bed exhilarated him.

"Who is that kid?"

"Dei-Dei. He's my best friend. I love him."

Deidara ceased movement in utter shock. The only remaining noise outside was that of the wind and the light patter of rain drizzling from the sky. A deep blush surfaced upon his cheeks and he smiled a genuine smile of happiness, walking home with a warm and fluttery sort of feeling burning in his stomach. "I think I love you too, yeah."

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Author's Note:** Ok first off sorry about the huge wait. My computer broke and I lost the file and I had to retype/rethink everything. Well hope you liked it. This chapter is set before Deidara starts making his signature art, but I will get to that soon enough. Hope I portrayed Jiraiya and Deidara adequately enough. I've never written anything with both of them it before so I'm new. Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading.


End file.
